The Matrix: Runaways
by Dark Puck
Summary: Completed! Takes place towards the end of the fourth Cycle of the Matrix. This is the story of two programs trying to escape the Merovingian's clutches as well as the rebel crew they encounter in the process.
1. Sekhmet

1

She had the appearance of a girl in her late teens, but as we all know, looks can be incredibly deceiving.  Her eyes darted around nervously for agents before looking up at the building housing _him_.  The Merovingian.  At last she gathered up her courage and entered his domain.

The music blared loudly as she stepped through the elevator doors, revealing the turbulent, extremely crowded club scene in front of her.  Bodies were packed tighter than sardines, as if it was a solid mass of people.

_It figures.  The only one able to help me runs an orgy club.  Great._  She ran a nervous hand through her short, dark tresses, brown eyes hunting for the Merovingian.  He could be seen, as usual, on the floor above, watching the scene below from the safety of his private section, where he was surrounded by bodyguards in seemingly innocuous clothing, including his "ghost" twins.

The girl took another moment to collect herself before making her way to him.  Architect, but the twins scared her….

The Merovingian made some random quip to his beautiful wife Persephone before regarding the approaching "teen."  "Well, well, well, what 'ave we here?  'As ze little kitten come to reconsider my proposition?"

She flushed at the title of 'kitten', but wisely did not comment on it.  "I have," she said softly, not daring to meet his eyes.  "You wish to 'ave a new face?  Very well, I will grant it… but I 'ave… conditions," he replied, smiling with triumph and dark amusement.

"I… I know," she replied.  "What are your conditions, sir?"

"With your little... makeover... I will claim ze right to your programming... you will hereby become one of my servants."

That made her look up, startled.  But if her only other choice was deletion…  Her eyes fell on the twins for a moment.  Would she end up like them?  The twins smiled lustily at her.  One of them licked its lips.  She shuddered, then looked at the Merovingian once more.  "I… accept your terms."

"Very well then.  We will start immediately."  he replied.

The program called 'Sekhmet' nodded, again casting her eyes to the ground.  "Yes, sir."  He gestured to one of his many minions, a girl dressed in bright colours and skimpy clothing, with a cheerful, painted face... and dark, soulless eyes.  "Aphrodite, please escort Sekhmet to ze Alchemist."  The program nodded and stepped up to the young program, gesturing to a door behind her, previously unseen.  "Right this way."

Sekhmet took a deep if unnecessary breath and followed Aphrodite, casting one last glance at the twins.  They cast lewd glances back at her.   Aphrodite, in the mean time, took a key out of her pocket and inserted it into the lock on the door before opening it.  It revealed a large room--much like an operation theatre.  Sekhmet gulped but, not seeing any choice, followed the other program inside.

Aphrodite closed the door behind the girl, not entering herself... although now the doors looked more like the double doors a doctor pushed a stretcher through.  _Please, please, please, no needles,_ she silently begged.  It was silly for a program to fear needles, she supposed, but she still held the phobia.

After a moment, an ancient looking doctor stepped through a pair of doors, putting on a pair of rubber gloves.  He was old... but he still looked strong and sure of himself, very confident.  "Hello there."

"Hello," she replied, voice barely above a whisper.

"What can I do for you?  The Frenchman just gave me the call..."

"I… need a new appearance."

"Anything in particular?"

"…"  Wistfully, thinking of the origin if her name, she said, "Long, tawny hair the colour of a lion's fur…  blue eyes…  Egyptian features…  is that all right?"  He nodded.  "I'll see what I can do."  he motioned to a surgical table.  "Please, lie down."

Nervous, she obeyed.  Obeying was so easy… it never took any thought.  Disobeying was the hard thing.  He put a breath mask over her face and turned a few pumps for the gas to start flowing.  She inhaled, and suddenly she was no longer aware.

The Alchemist was hit with a pang of regret as he saw her body lying there, small and fragile.  He'd received orders long ago on what to do with this one... the extra programming to add... however, he couldn't very well say no to the Merovingian -- after all, he owed him so much.…

****

Sekhmet woke slowly, feeling as if her body had been run through a winepress or ten.  She was resting on a bed in a hotel room, a complete departure from her previous locale.  It was a nice room, though, full of the opulence that fit everything else associated with the Merovingian.  On the nightstand next to her was a small envelope, but the room seemed basically normal besides that.

Groaning, her body stiff, she reached for the envelope, opening it to observe its contents.   It contained a key and a letter.  She looked at the key, then read the letter.

"I have fulfilled my end of the bargain, and I will expect you to uphold yours.  This key will take you back to my club.

"The Merovingian.

"PS --try not to close the door on your tail."

"T-tail?"  Sekhmet reread the letter, then twisted to look behind her.  Sure enough, a tawny tail was waving behind her.  Her eyes widened, and she ran to a mirror.  Her new face stared back at her, but there was another noticeable difference: her ears had changed in shape to cat ears.

She let out a cry of anguish, falling to her knees.  "Wh-why…?"

At last, she rose, composing herself.  She wouldn't put it past the Frenchman to have cameras in the room.  She would cry later, when she was sure he couldn't see.  She retrieved the key and returned to the club.

She had come from the same hidden door, not far from the smiling Merovingian.  "Look, darling, ze kitten has awoken."  Sekhmet had to bite her tongue to keep from snapping at him, and let out a startled yip, bringing her fingers to her pained tongue.  She drew them back and saw blood; startled, she ran her tongue over her teeth to find that she now had a cat's fangs.

 "Still getting used to ze new form, are we?"  The Frenchman replied, smiling haughtily.

"What did you _do_ to me!?"

"An insurance policy.  With such an appearance, you will be unable to find refuge anywhere but here."  He replied.  "Do you zink I take chances so easily?"  She was barely able to keep herself from lunging at him.

 He laughed at her rage.  "Temper, temper, little kitten.  I told you zere would be consequences, did I not?  Zis is merely a cause of your actions... you are ze one you should be most angry with."

She stared at him, chest heaving, longing for nothing more than to tear out the pompous Frenchman's throat with her bare hands.   "Will you behave, or should I instruct you in advance in what happens to zose who defy me?"

At last, she calmed.  Her newly blue eyes still burned with anger, but Sekhmet had changed from her challenging stance to a more submissive one.   "Zat's a good little kitten.  Now, you can eizer enjoy ze club, or return to ze hotel until I am in need of you… in eizer case, get lost."

No way in hell would she remain in the general vicinity of the twins any longer than she had to.  Sekhmet chose to return to the hotel room.

"You won't stay and play?" one of the twins asked.

"No."

"We would like you to stay."

"Too bad," she replied, shooting them a glare.  They smirked lewdly again.  Sekhmet shuddered and returned to her room, where she proceeded to make a thorough search for cameras.  She found and destroyed five in all, though she was certain there were more.  She was, however, no longer able to contain her rampaging emotions and threw herself on the bed, sobbing quietly.

In another room, the Merovingian smirked, pleased with himself immensely.  He'd broken her, just as he thought he would.  Of course, with all the extra programming, the tail and ears weren't very necessary--but one could never be too careful.  With more manipulation and application of the subroutines he'd had installed, she would be little more than a kitten in a few short months.  And, for a program with as much time on his hands as the Merovingian, what was a few months?

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_Greetings, fellow Matrix fans!_  This is Dark Puck coming at you with a co-authored fanfiction that does not deal with the movies.  We will be showing some characters you all know, however, as proven by the Merovingian, Persephone, and the Twins.  Others shall appear, but as for who they are… It's a secret!  ^_^__

_Please note that the concept of the Matrix and all characters belong to Brothers Warner and Wachowski, not to me or Soldier Zero.  So don't sue us.  You won't get anything; we're poor.  Feh, like college students have spare cash anyway…._

_Author's Notes next chapter, read and review!_


	2. Marcus

2

Within a few months, Sekhmet was technically loyal to the Merovingian.  She had no choice, after all.  There was a knock at her door; she rose to answer it.  Aphrodite was there.  "You have a job."

"Well, there's something new.  What is it this time?"

 "There's been an escape.  You are to track him down."

"Any info?"

"He's tall, dark hair, red eyes.  He will be wearing a long black coat that almost seems cape-like."

"Program?"

 "Vampire."

"Fuuun," she muttered.  "All right, I'm on him.  Location?"

"The subway systems.  4th and Green."

"Lovely.  A vampire in dark tunnels.  My will's in the fourth drawer from the bottom, inside the fake book."

 "Already have a photocopy," she replied.

"Why am I not surprised?"

She smiled mirthlessly.

"Do I get a key, or am I walking?"

Aphrodite handed the girl a key.  "Woman's room, subway station."  Sekhmet nodded and left.  Vampire-hunting in prime vampire territory.  Fun.

The station wasn't exactly in good repair, but it wasn't exactly out of shape, either.  At this time of night, though, the tunnels were mostly home to empty tunnels, riff-raff, the homeless, and people who worked too late in general.  Sekhmet walked alone through the tunnels, searching for the escaped program.  She made certain to keep a hat over her ears and a trench coat on to hide her tail - If a human were to see her, the place would swarm with agents.

A shadowy form slipped ahead of her, stalking slowly with the movements particular to those also being hunted.  

Hunting vampires was damn hard in the darkness.  For all Sekhmet knew, she could be walking into a trap - she had a cat's hearing, but not sight or sense of smell.   Of course, she knew it wasn't a "real" vampire, merely a programmed simulation of one...but in the Matrix, simulation was reality.

The form halted.  "He sent you, didn't he?"

"Yes," was her simple response.   "I won't go willingly," he replied.  

"I am prepared for that eventuality."

The tall man turned, showing a relatively handsome face.  "Then, shall we begin?"

"Yes," she replied, dropping into a combative crouch.   He dropped into a similar stance.  "Very well."  She watched him for a long moment.  For some reason, she felt sorry for him.   Then, he rushed forward towards his feline would-be captor.  She easily avoided him, feeling her fingernails lengthen into claws as she swiped at him.   He dodged away, sweeping his legs out in a low kick.  Sekhmet leapt over it, kicking out at him with both feet.  The vampire bent backwards to avoid it, vaulting onto his hands and then into the air, away from the girl.

She landed on the ground with enough force to crack the pavement but sprang into the air after him.  He rushed forward and rolled under her, jumping up behind her and launching a kick at the girl's back.  With feline reflexes, Sekhmet turned and blocked the kick with her forearms.

He used the momentum of the attack to push back, landing on his feet and in a stance again.  She landed in a defensive crouch as well.  "You're good."  "So are you."  He smiled slightly.  She felt an answering smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.  "What's your name?"

"Marcus.  Yours?"

"Sekhmet."

"If only the circumstances could have been better."  He bowed a little.

She blinked.  "What?"  

"Well, I much rather enjoy getting to know people the old fashioned way... not by engaging in mortal combat."

"Don't blame me; it's not like I've got a choice in the matter," Sekhmet replied bitterly.

"Then why not run away yourself?"

"He made sure I couldn't."

 "How so?"

Sekhmet removed her hat, revealing the cat ears resting sedately atop her head.  He didn't look surprised, instead nodding lightly.  "They can be concealed."  "The tail is harder to conceal," she answered.  "The coat seems to work."

"Not in daylight."

He sighed.  "Then must we continue this dance?"  "Yes," she replied sadly.  He seemed like a nice fellow, for a vampire…  much nicer than the twins.  Even the memory of them caused her to shudder.  He fell back into the stance, strengthening it slightly.  Sekhmet mirrored him, wondering if she dare lose this fight purposely.  He started to move towards her, slowly, cautiously.

She stood her ground, blue eyes following his every move.   He then rushed forward, full preternatural speed in effect.  Sekhmet's eyes widened in shock, and she was barely able to dodge him.  He pivoted on his foot, using the momentum to lash out a roundhouse kick.  Again, she was almost too slow in blocking his blow.  Such speed!

He then dropped into a flurry of punches and kicks, almost unfollowable.  Sekhmet skipped backwards, but fell under his blows.  He backed off before he hurt her too much.  "I'm sorry, Sekhmet."  She looked up at him.  "Why?"  "You don't deserve this pain..."  He then began to slip off.

She hesitated, unsure.  He turned.  "Attack me, join me… do whichever you wish.  I won't fight back anymore."  

"I…"

"You what?"

"I'm so confused," she whispered.  He returned to her side and kneeled.  "We all go through life confused... as much as ours is life...."  She buried her face in her hands.  "Was this worth not getting deleted?" she whispered.  Marcus wasn't sure what to do, now... he wasn't well programmed to possess the empathy necessary for this situation.

She looked up at him, tears shining in her blue eyes.  "I'm… I'm scared…."  He smiled weakly at her.  "I am too."  "I'm scared… that he'll give me to them if I fail…."  Sekhmet shuddered, drawing her trench coat tighter around her slender frame.

The vampire program hesitated for a second, and then wrapped the girl in his arms.  She leaned against him, struggling to remain calm.  "I… I don't know what to do anymore…."  

"I'll go with you if you want to take me in... and I'll take you with me if you wish to try to escape."

"Why… are you doing this for me?"

"Because it is futile to escape on my own... and I don't want to hurt another person with my futile effort."

"But… I'm not a person… I'm a program… like you…."

He looked around at their surroundings.  "That line is very thin, in here."

She had no reply for that.

He continued to hold her.  "I leave my fate in your hands."

Sekhmet froze at his words.  It was as if he had told her he trusted her.  But… to trust her….

He broke the hug and stood.  "Which will it be?"

She remained huddled on the ground.  "… Go.  I can't bring you in, and I'd be a danger to you if I were to leave with you."

"I fear I'd be in more danger if I left alone.  Is this truly your decision?"

"Yes.  Facing _them _would be better than knowing I'd led you back to him."  He nodded, sadly a little.  The he raised his head and looked behind her.  "You had better get up, there is a train coming."

She nodded, leaping to the platform.  Marcus stepped to the side of the tracks.  Then the train began to zoom by, and he leapt onto it, grabbing its side as the immense mass transit vehicle zoomed off.

Sekhmet stared after him for a long moment, then began her trek back to the Merovingian.

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_Hello, everyone!__  Dark Puck and Soldier Zero return to you with the second chapter of PROGRAM.  __Eh, I dunno… is the title all right?  What do you guys think?_

**_Busy Little Crumpet__: We're glad to hear that we've kept the Twins and Merv in character.  Always nice to know.  As for Sekhmet's ears and tail, well, I hope this chapter explained it for you.  She was basically meant to be a night stalker anyway, hence the cat references.  Besides ‒ the ears and tail are the physical manifestation of the Merovingian's programming.  He was also making a pun of her name ‒ Sekhmet is one of the Egyptian cat goddesses, along with Bastet and (so I've heard) Ra.  I could be mistaken on the last part, however.  ::shrug::  It just seemed like something Merv would do._**

**_Priestess of Anubis__: Here you go.  Enjoy._**


	3. Bastet

3

Sekhmet slipped into the club.  Though the Twins still scared her, she had learned to ignore them… mostly.  She was hoping that she had the capacity to lie.  The Merovingian was in his usual spot, above everyone else, sitting with his wife  and surrounded by bodyguards.  The symbolism made her want to gag.  She wove her way to the upper floor.

"Ah, my little kitten.  How went ze mission?"  he called to her, his smile indicating he already knew.  Her eyebrow twitched at his persistence in calling her 'kitten'.  "If you know, why ask?"

"Because I want to hear it come from your lips."

"He escaped."

"Why did you not go after him?"

"He was holding onto a subway train.  I wouldn't have been able to catch up."

"Very well... at least you tried."  He then went on to talk to another of his minions about something else.  Sekhmet blinked.  He was letting her off so easily?  He didn't appear to give her even a sideways glance.

Suspecting something was up, she started to walk away - and stopped.  Near the Twins.  She couldn't continue running from them, after all.  "You want something?" one of them asked.  "No," she replied.  She wouldn't run away she wouldn't run away she wouldn't run away….

"Have a little time for us now, then?" the other... or the same one… asked.

"…."  Maybe she should take this one step at a time?

 "Oh, kitten, I almost forgot."  The Merovingian called out.  She turned to look at him.  "What?"   "You still 'ave work to do."  He said, and then pressed a small button on a small remote control.

Without warning, Sekhmet blacked out as her new programming came into play, unleashing Bastet.  "You know what you 'ave to do, do you not?"  The Frenchman replied.  "I believe so… but you may have to refresh my memory."

"Ze rogue program Marcus needs to be recaptured."

Bastet bowed.  "It will be done."  "Zen go... and make sure to get your actions on tape."  "Yes, sir," she replied, before turning sharply on her heel and exiting.  She did pause momentarily to flirt with the Twins… the better to frighten her host body with.

***

Marcus dropped off the train far down the line, quickly slipping into some side passages and going deeper into the forgotten catacombs of the labyrinthine city.  He'd often wondered how far up and down the Matrix ascended and descended.  This was a perfect time to find out.

"Hello, handsome," purred a voice that was familiar… but different.  He turned.  "Sekhmet?"

"Hmm… not quite."  She looked like Sekhmet, but she held herself proudly, with a confidence Sekhmet didn't possess.  She had also forgone the hat and trench coat, letting her ears and tail be seen.

 He stepped into a fighting stance.  "Copy or subprogram?"

"That would be telling, wouldn't it?  I'm sure he will tell you if he sees fit."

"'He' being the Frenchman, I presume."

"Who else?"  Bastet smiled as her fingernails lengthened into claws.  "Come, Marcus… dance with me."

He lowered his stance slightly.  "We don't have to do this."

"Yes, we do… you see, he told me to recapture you."

He sighed.  "Very well… let us begin."  Bastet immediately lunged for him, slashing with her claws.  She was faster than Sekhmet.  The vampiric program leapt away from her assault, up to the ceiling which he connected with briefly before shoving off of it, launching his body straight for Bastet.  She pounced off of the floor right back at him, an unholy smile on her face.  They met in the air, Marcus launching a punch straight for the female program  She caught it with one hand, her claws digging into his flesh, while her other hand sunk the claws deep into his midsection, raking them up his body.

He grimaced a little, and then grabbed her arm back, flipping over her body and landing on the ground.  Then, using his momentum, he flipped her back over his head, slamming her hard into the concrete floor of the tunnel.

She cried out at the impact, a cry that sounded exactly like that of her weaker self.  Bastet frowned.  As if looking like the weakling wasn't bad enough.  Her legs kicked out at his head.  The hit connected, and he stumbled back, but entered a fighting stance.  She rose gracefully to her feet.  "Why not just give up?" she purred.   "My programming has given me the same mentality of a mythical creature that lives forever on the blood of its former fellows.  It's made me a survivor." 

"You won't survive long with wounds like those."  She indicated the deep gashes in his gut.  "That's your life slipping away."

He smirked.  "Maybe if I was programmed as mortal."

"Ah, but even vampires can be destroyed…."

"Did your master happen to give you a stake?"  The vampire program stepped back slightly, into a firmer stance.  "No.  I made one."

"But you're supposed to bring me in, not kill me."

"I'm sure he will understand if my hand happened to… slip."

He chuckled darkly.  "You truly are his creation, aren't you?"

"I doubt it… after all, he didn't write me.  But… he ordered me written, so that might count.  Now, are you coming quietly, or do I have to drag your mangled body with me?"

"What makes you think I won't dissolve into mist or explode into bats and hide deeper in the chamber?"

"He'll probably get rid of her for good."

He hesitated.  "In that case... the latter."  "So… you _do have an emotional attachment to her.  How… intriguing…."  Bastet smirked.  "Let us dance, then."  "If you wish."  He didn't move from his stance._

Again that unholy grin spread over her features before she lunged for him again.  He ran for her and then suddenly dropped and slid under her, slamming his legs up into her gut, and then pushing up off the floor with his hands, throwing her down the corridor.  She twisted in midair like a cat, rebounding hard off of a random piece of machinery to soar right back at him, claws extended.  He rolled to his feet and leapt over her, slamming both of his boots down on her head before he flipped midair to land on his feet.

"So… you _were_ holding back against my otherself…," Bastet said thoughtfully as she rose to her feet.  

"I didn't want to hurt her."

"Why?  She was sent to capture you; she was your enemy."

"I could tell she did not want to do what she was being made to do."

"You emotional fool," Bastet sneered before lunging for him again.  He lunged back for her again, meeting her mid-attack.  The cat-girl slashed at him viciously, snarling.  He blocked the attack, taking a little peripheral damage as he launched a knee for the infected program's chest.  She was thrown backwards, slamming into the wall with enough force that Sekhmet's cry of pain was torn from her lips again.

A pang of guilt washed through the vampiric program, but he kept his fighting stance.  The feline program looked up at him.  "M-marcus…?" she whispered.  "Sekhmet?" he asked, dropping his arms slightly.  "Marcus… what's going on?  Why am I here?  I can't…"  She trembled.  "What's happened to me?"

He stepped over to her and kneeled in front of the program.  "You were being controlled by a subprogram... you're better now."  "I don't… remember…."  Bastet concealed a smile.  It was working.

"It's not surprising... such a program would probably block out your memory."

"Marcus… why does my head hurt?"

 "I was forced to fight back... I am sorry...."  He lowered his head a little.

She gasped as her eyes fell on his wounds.  "Marcus… did I do that to you!?"  He nodded.  "Do not concern yourself...the Merovingian's programming makes me very hard to kill."

"And yet you're still a fool," Bastet's voice sneered in his ear as she slammed the brick she'd been hiding up and against his head.  He stumbled back, holding his head.  "A... trick…."  "Of course," Bastet smiled, rising gracefully and walking to him.  "I had to get your guard down, and you yourself betrayed your weakness to me."  She clubbed him a second time.

He stumbled again, trying to regain balance.  Blood smeared his forehead.  "Oh, you are a stubborn one, aren't you?  I wonder how many hits it takes to keep a vampire down?  Shall we find out?"  She hit him again.

He slumped to the ground, losing all coherence, his head spinning.  Bastet smiled, and kicked him hard.  He lapsed finally into unconsciousness, slumping down onto the concrete floor.  Bastet laughed, picking up his limp body - or trying to.  He was too heavy.  Frowning, she dialled the Merovingian.

"Bonjour?"

"I have him, but he's too heavy for me to carry."

"Where are you?"

She gave him the location, then added, "He seems to have an emotional attachment to my other self.  That's how I caught him."  "Very good... I suspected as much, of course."  A few seconds later, a rusty metal door opened nearby her, and a group of minions stepped out, to gather the vampire program.

Bastet stepped aside to let them pass.  "Your orders, sir?"

"Return to your hotel room, and place ze tape of your actions on ze nightstand."

"Understood."  She hung up and obeyed.

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_Hi!  Who likes Bastet more than Sekhmet?  Anyone?_

_Nothing much to say tonight….___

**_Priestess of Anubis__: I know he is.  He's supposed to be.  And the Twins… are the Twins.  ::shrug::_**

**_Stormhawk: __Glad you liked the chapter.  And to think Soldier Zero and I churned out the first five in a night… damn.  We like the exiles as well, and I have a tendency to obsess over minor characters ‒ _Gundam Wing's_ Officer Walker, who had maybe 5 minutes of screen time total, Seraph, the Twins, Apoc, _Artemis Fowl's _Trouble Kelp, _Fushigi Yugi's _drunken bandit and Kouji… the list goes on._**

**_Tobias Andarion__: We meet again, Toby!  ::glomps::  Where've you been!?  E-mail me, dammit!  ^__^  Glad you like our story so far; more updates are coming!_**


	4. Escape

4

Marcus awoke groggily within a dungeon cell locked deep within the Merovingian's stronghold.  He knew this because he had been done here several times... although never for his own incarceration.  The room was very small and made of stone, a think wooden door the only exit.  The shackles in which he was currently bound were rusted but strong, composed of a program that rendered them all but unbreakable.

The Merovingian was there when he awoke, smiling cruelly.  "So our prodigal son finally awakens.  I trust you're not too uncomfortable?"

Marcus's eyes narrowed.  "Go to the Source."

Persephone clicked her tongue.  "I do not think he much likes you, dearest."  "It is to be expected, my lovely," he replied out of hand.  "Now, would you care to enlighten me as to why you attempted to escape me?"

Marcus only glared.

The Merovingian sighed.  "Very well zen, if you will not tell me, zen perhaps I should arrange for a more... effective method of interrogation?"

"Why not use the little kitty-cat?" Persephone suggested.  "My idea exactly, my pet.  It would be a shame if somezing were to… say... happen to her, _non_?"  The Frenchman smiled evilly.

"You leave her out of this, you frog-eating bastard!"  Marcus growled, straining against his bonds.

"Temper, temper, my friend.  I will not do a zing to her, as long as you cooperate."

The vampire program hesitated.  Persephone smiled coldly.  "We have noticed that the Twins seem to like her… and that she fears them."

"It would be a shame if zey were to, say, be left unattended with her."

"If I tell you how and why, will you leave her be?"  Marcus asked.

The Merovingian smiled.  "But of course."  Persephone nodded, still smiling her vampire smile.

"I left because I despise you.  I despise this place.  I despise what you did to me.  I want my freedom.  And how did I escape?  I managed to slip out the back door while you were 'preoccupied' with that cake-stuffed girl in the women's bathroom," he replied heatedly.

The Merovingian shot a look at Persephone.  "I 'ave no idea what zis… zis… zis _swine _is talking about."  "Of course, my love," Persephone replied, inwardly seething.  Oh, she knew about her husband's little "cakes".  "Well, I am glad you finally decided to come around.  However, you will 'ave to be reprogrammed.  I'll leave you here until I can decide a fitting punishment for you."  The Merovingian then opened the door, sweeping out a hand for Persephone to leave first.  She exited, wondering just how she could repay her husband properly.

The Frenchman gave one last, withering look to Marcus, and then departed, to leave the vampiric program to his own... locked deep inside the castle of the Merovingian.

***

Sekhmet awoke with one hell of a headache and no memory of anything after the Merovingian had punched the button.  "Ow…" she muttered.  Her room looked much like it had before... if it wasn't for the bruises on her body and bump on her head, it was if nothing had happened.

She struggled to sit up, wondering what had happened.  Her eyes fell on a videotape.  there was a small envelope on top of it.  Muttering dire curses, she opened it and read the letter.  

"The below is evidence of further insurance...I like to ensure both loyalty and success.  Cooperate, and nothing like what is on the tape has to happen again."

Having the sinking feeling that it had something to do with her bruises, she watched it in growing horror as she saw herself beat Marcus to a pulp.  "No…."  The tape ended, exposing only snow.

"No… Architect, what have I done….?"

"Exactly what I told you to do," came a voice from the door.  Sekhmet looked up to see the Merovingian.  "What do you want?"

"An effective minion."

She looked down.  "What if I don't want to be a minion?" she mumbled.

"You agreed to ze job when you agreed to your facelift.  Causality -- cause and effect.  If you 'ad not asked for ze makeover, I would not 'ave installed my own programming.  If you 'ad not purposely failed in your attempt to capture Marcus, zen I would not 'ave 'ad to release Bastet.  Cause and effect, kitten, cause and effect."

"…"  She had no response to that.  She hated that.   "What… what's going to happen to him?"  

"A fitting punishment.  Ze least of which will be reprogramming into a more docile form."  

"Docile?"

"You would rather 'e remained aggressive?  Perhaps 'e would escape again, and zen you would 'ave to recapture 'im..."

Again there was silence.

"You are welcome to any room service you want, provided zat you stay eizer in ze room or in ze club."  The Merovingian then stepped through the same door he had come from.  "Bastard," she muttered after the door had been shut.

***

Persephone waited until her husband was preoccupied, then left to visit the vampire program.  "Hello, Marcus."  "You," he replied, still rather upset at her.  "Yes, me," she replied simply.

"What do you want?"  

"Tell me… why is it you care so much for my husband's little kitten?"

"Because I see in her what your husband is doing to me... trying to turn people who once worked for the good of the system into killers, exploiting the vulnerable for his own good."

"You are sure that is the only reason?"

"What are you trying to get at?"

"Oh, nothing…"  She rose to leave, her foot kicking something within his reach.  A key.  "Be a good little boy and run along with the kitten.  She is quite a pretty little thing, you know, and the Twins may not be the only ones eyeing her."

He pulled at the chains binding him.  "I cannot reach it as long as I am bound to the wall."  "You are a vampire, are you not?  You are stronger than a mere mortal… but, ah, that may take too much time."  Persephone snapped her fingers, and the program creating the binds was erased.

He dropped a little and grabbed the key.  "Why are you doing this?"

"I have enough competition as it is," Persephone replied.  "I do not need him rewriting her to be his mistress."  "Thanks anyway."  He slipped from the room.  The goddess-like program smirked.  "That's one for me, my love."

***

Some time later, the knob of the hotel room housing Sekhmet turned, and through it stepped a more welcome face -- that of Marcus as he slid carefully into the more-than-likely surveyed room.

Sekhmet was fast asleep in a corner of the room, apparently not wanting to sleep on anything provided by the Merovingian.  There were tear-tracks on her face, as if she'd cried herself to sleep.

He touched her lightly on the shoulder.  "Sekhmet..."  She woke instantly.  "M-marcus?"  He nodded.  "Are you okay?"  She stared at him for a long moment, then threw herself at him, hugging him fiercely.  "Marcus… Marcus, I'm so sorry!"  "You have no need to apologize...you were not yourself."  He stood then.  "We must move quickly...he may already know I'm free."

She looked at him, confused.  "You… you'll help me, trust me, even after…?"

He nodded.  "Of course."

"Why?"

"Because I know you are good at heart."

"But… what if he brings her out again?"

"I will find a way to incapacitate you."  She smiled.  "Thanks, Marcus.  I'll go with you this time."  He smiled back.  "Alright...now hurry.  We don't have time."  She nodded, rising swiftly to her feet.  "Which way?"  He looked to the door.  "We leave going through the hotel--not going through the club."

"That door leads to the club…"   "Only when the key is used," he replied, walking towards it.  Sekhmet didn't understand, but she followed him.  Suddenly, the door slammed open, the Merovingian entering, with a Twin on either side.  Sekhmet froze, wide-eyed.  "Marcus!"

He hissed, reaching inside his coat.  "Damnit!"   Sekhmet's claws came out as she dropped into a fighter's crouch.   "Leaving so soon?  A pity, really.  I 'ad jus' begun to plan ze dance," the Merovingian said angrily.  "Leave him alone!" Sekhmet shouted, coming to stand between Marcus and the intruders.  "You are in no place to command, my dear," the Merovingian sneered darkly at her.  The Twins advanced a little.  "Or do I 'ave to remind you who is really in command?"  he lifted a remote.

Her eyes widened, and she shrank away.  Marcus lunged for the remote, but the twins intercepted him, one producing a razor and slashing across the vampire's chest.  He dropped to the floor and pulled out a pistol, shooting one of them in the chest--the bullet instead passed through the Twin as it became incorporeal... and straight into the Merovingian's hand, causing him to drop the remote.

With catlike speed Sekhmet lunged for the remote, hoping to destroy it or get it out of the Merovingian's reach.  The Merovingian also lunged for it.  However, before either could grab it, the remote shattered from another blast of the pistol from the now prone vampire.  Sekhmet turned and bounded back to Marcus, slashing at one of the twins who was in her way.

He turned incorporeal, responding by slashing out his razor.  The other started to advance, but the vampiric program rolled to his feet and discharged the weapon several times at the two twins, before grabbing Sekhmet and rushing through the door, into the club.

_I hate this place_, she thought as she ran with him.  "Marcus, it's daylight!"  "Then we get out through the basement... I have a key."

She nodded.  "Okay.  Lead me."

"Should we go after them?" one of the Twins asked.  The Merovingian shook his head.  "Why bozer?  Wizout command from me ozerwise, ze Bastet subprogram will assert itself randomly.  All we 'ave to do is wait, and let zem fall into our trap."

_Eheheheh__… so, that's it for chapter four!  How are y'all liking it so far?  Good?  Bad?  Crap?   Keep reading for more on our programs!  ^_^_


	5. Pyre

5

Marcus looked down the stone corridors in the heart of the abandoned subway tunnels. He listened for a moment, and then sighed relief. "I think we're safe now... I doubt they could follow us so far in the tunnels."

Sekhmet was nervous. "The Twins could…"

"Follow, yes. Track? That's iffy," he replied. Sekhmet smiled. "Good point. Thanks." He slumped against the wall, and opened his coat. "Hasn't stopped bleeding...." He inspected the Twin-inflicted razor wound. Her eyes widened. "Marcus…" She knelt beside him, pressing her hand to the wound to try and staunch the blood flow.

He shook his head. "Don't worry. I'll be fine. I'm 'undead' remember?" "But… if you lose enough blood, won't you need more?" "Point," he said, looking down at the slash mark. Then he looked around, an expression of ironic amusement on his face. "You know... in my original function, I'd be getting rid of places like this."

Sekhmet tilted her head to one side. "What did you originally do?" 

"I deleted useless or redundant programming once it stopped having a function."

She was silent… for a long moment. "Programs like me?"

He shook his head. "No, I didn't delete whole programs. I just trimmed them." "Oh," Sekhmet replied, looking thoughtful. He looked questioningly at her. "What about you? What was your original function?"

Sekhmet smiled wistfully. "Sunrise."

"More glorious than my job."

"Yeah, but we're replaced really fast."

He cocked his head. "Why?"

"No sunrise is the same. As soon as it starts getting repetitive… I think I've lasted the longest."

"Ah." He thought for a moment. "I was replaced because I didn't work fast or efficient enough. Glitches got past me. I couldn't hit all the redundant programs fast enough."

"How long did you do your job?"

"I'm not sure."

"How long have you been an exile, then?"

"I'm also not sure... when you live in the dark, time has a tendency to blur."

She impulsively hugged him. "Well, you look like you're about nineteen or twenty." "That doesn't say much," he replied. "I think the bleeding's stopped." She drew her hands away and checked. He was right. "Well, in any case, you're older than I am."

He stood, pulling his coat around him. "You're thinking in human terms."

"So?" she asked him. 

"Point... after all, I suppose you looked relatively human while you did your job."

She nodded. "More so than I do now…," she looked sadly at her tail. "My form was job-dependant -- and not always human." He started to walk down the corridors again. Sekhmet dropped it and followed him.

"Now... where do we go from here?" Marcus questioned. Sekhmet spoke hesitantly. "I… have heard of rebels… human rebels… within the Matrix…" 

"Me too. What about 'em?"

"Maybe… they could help us?"

He gave her an odd look. "How?" Sekhmet sighed. "Give us a place to stay, maybe undo the Merovingian's extraneous programming in me…?"

He thought over this as he walked. "Good plan." She brightened. "You think so?" he nodded. "They may be the only people we can get help from." "Yeah… I hope they'll be willing to, though," she said.

"Everyone hates the Merovingian. They'll help."

Sekhmet smiled, then frowned. "Now… if only we knew how to find them…." "I think, when the time comes, they'll find us." Sekhmet gave Marcus a curious look. "Life has a way of working out like that," he replied.

"All right…."

In the opposite direction, but quickly closing on the programs' location, a young woman with short blond hair ran as fast as she could through the abandoned tunnels, her great jacket flapping as she huffed through the labyrinth, taking blind turns in an attempt to lose her relentless pursuers. _Great... you've gotten yourself into a jam here, Pyre.... just who are these government psychos? And that Poni chick... what was her problem?_

Sekhmet's cat-ears caught the sound of pounding feet and froze. "Someone's coming!" Marcus looked around for a hiding place. "Damn... we're out in the open." "Any shadows?" Sekhmet queried urgently. He gave a few quick looks. "Here... in this alcove. If we bundle up close, maybe we'll avoid attention." Sekhmet nodded, running to it with him.

Just a second after the reached it, a young girl, somewhere between her teens and early twenties, crashed down the hall. She had short blond hair, which was dyed red along the tips. Panting loudly, the girl collapsed to her knees, dust now covering her grey sweat pants. "I... can't... run... any... more...." She huffed, struggling to get back to her feet as sounds of pursuit began to sound behind her.

Sekhmet sucked her breath in. "Marcus, we have to help her," she whispered, getting ready to run for the girl. He looked over at her and nodded. "But how?" "Maybe we can fit her in here with us? I'm not very big…"

Her head snapped over to the two programs. "Oh great.... more weirdoes." She stood and started to back up.

Sekhmet stepped out of hiding, her hand up to show she was unarmed. Okay, technically, she _wasn't, but…. "Wait, please. We won't hurt you."_

"That's what those freaks in mirror shades said," she replied.

"Mirror shades… Agents?" Sekhmet looked back to Marcus for confirmation. "Fuck if I know...," the girl replied. Sekhmet's eyes widened. "Marcus! If Agents are near…."

"Yeah... I know. We've got to hide her." He looked around a bit. "There was a culvert about fifty meters back... we could hide there, if you think you can make it."

The girl sighed. "Sure, why not. Let's go."

Marcus led the way while Sekhmet brought up the rear, keeping an ear out for agents. The sounds of approaching dress shoes running at fast speeds came closer and closer. Sekhmet swallowed, hoping they'd be able to hide before the agents caught up. Marcus finally leapt into the culvert, his arms snatching out and pulling the two girls in after him. Sekhmet clung to him, burying her face in his coat, unaware of her tail brushing against the other girl.

The girl shied away_. A tail!!!? Holy Christ!_ Sekhmet didn't notice just yet. She could still hear the agents. The sounds of feet in dress shoes echoed past... and then stopped for a moment in front of the culvert. Sekhmet clung tighter to Marcus' coat, twining her tail around her legs to keep it hidden.

"Where is the girl?" one emotionless voice asked.

"We can't get a fix on her. She may be half-logged out of the system already." Came a second voice.

_Half-logged out? What do they mean by that? Sekhmet wondered. The youth huddled down closer, almost not daring to even breath. Sekhmet gently slid an arm around the other girl's shoulders, trying to offer comfort and support. She looked to her and smiled weakly, but said nothing. Sekhmet smiled back, also silent._

After a few more minutes of incomprehensible speaking, the Agents wandered off, although still seemingly on high alert. Marcus and the girl still dared not breath. Finally, Sekhmet's grip on Marcus' coat loosened, and she peeked out just a little. The broken hallway was empty. Completely and totally. She came back in and whispered, "Do you think it's safe?"

The girl shook her head, huddling against the wall. "I don't want to chance it..." "I agree," Sekhmet replied, looking to Marcus for confirmation. Marcus nodded. "We stay here a bit longer… just in case."

The younger program nodded, sinking to the ground with a sigh. "I think… Agents may scare me more than the Twins," she told Marcus. The girl gave them an odd look. "What does that have to do with anything... Twins... Agents... cat people... the Matrix... what the hell's going on?" Sekhmet sighed. "I'm _not supposed to look like this."_

The girl just stared. "Yeah... yeah, now it all makes perfect sense. Thanks." "I'm not too sure myself," Sekhmet answered. "I guess me knowing a lot about the Matrix wasn't considered too important.

She blinked again. "Right. The Matrix. Okay. Sure."

"You're the one who asked."

"Where's the Scottish chick when I need her?" she mumbled. She took a cell phone out of her pocket. "Ever since she gave me this thing..." Sekhmet blinked, confused, and looked up at Marcus.

Marcus shrugged too. "What does a cell phone have to do with anything?"

"A girl claiming to be the hacker Poni gave it to me... said she'd tell me what the Matrix is... the truth about the world, and told me to call her if I was ever in trouble," she said, looking at the thing half-repulsed, half-curious.

"So why don't you call her?"

She looked over at the two. "I'm not sure... after those mirror shades chased me... is it really worth it?"

"Probably," Sekhmet replied. "If there are Agents after you, you need all the help you can get." She sighed. "Alright, I'll call." She dialled a number on the phone and waited. Sekhmet watched, huddled by Marcus' feet. Marcus held her.

"Yeah... hey... it's Pyre. I'm in the tunnels by the sub... you already know? Okay... how long? Alright... good. Bye." The girl closed the phone and leaned against the wall. "They'll be here in about five minutes."

Sekhmet nodded, a wave of doubt beginning to come over her. Surely the rebels would realise she and Marcus were programs? Marcus seemed to be coming to the same conclusions... but they couldn't just leave her here...

Sekhmet smiled weakly. "Maybe… they won't delete us?" she whispered. He smiled. "Remember what I said about them finding us?"

The girl, Pyre, gave them an odd look, and dusted off her lime green shirt. "This has been a very strange week."

"You have no idea." Sekhmet replied.

"I'm being chased by rejects from a bad kung fu movie and rejects from a bad X-Files episode. I'm huddling in a sewer with catgirl right out of bad _shoujo_ and what appears to be a vampire. I think I have some idea."

Sekhmet looked confused. "_Shoujo?" She shook her head. "Never mind." Sekhmet looked at Marcus. "What's a __shoujo?" he shrugged. "No clue." She sighed. "So… I guess we wait." And wait they did… until new footsteps began to trod down the passageway._

Sekhmet drew in a short, sharp breath. "They're here…."


	6. Rebels

6

"…is she?" came a tough sounding female voice, with a thick Scottish accent.

"Damned if I know," a low male voice replied, his tone traced with an Irish lilt. "I'm a bit more worried about them as is with her." "Well, she's still alive. That's all that matters," the woman replied. Slowly, Pyre stuck her head out, then she ducked back in. "It's them." Sekhmet slowly nodded. "Why don't you go out first?" she suggested, a slight quaver in her voice. Pyre looked to Marcus, who nodded. She sighed, and stepped out of the culvert. "Poni!" she called in a whisper.

"Pyre! Are you alright?" the Scot replied, boots now rushing across the stone. The Irishman followed quickly. Sekhmet slowly, unsteadily rose to her feet, looking to Marcus for her cue to go out there.

The Irishman followed quickly. Sekhmet slowly, unsteadily rose to her feet, looking to Marcus for her cue to go out there. Marcus stepped slowly behind after the human, motioning Sekhmet to join them. She followed him. The redheaded Irishman was the first to notice them. His arms came up, both holding submachine guns. "Poni," he said tersely, aiming one at Marcus, one at Sekhmet.

Poni, a young woman barely out of her teens with long black hair and green eyes, looked casually at Pyre. "These two programs hurt ya?"

She shook her head. "They saved me... programs?"

"Programs," the Irishman answered. "Both o' them rogues, more'n likely."

"We'll explain later," replied Poni. "Lower those cannons, Red. Can't ya see these two be our friends?" He hesitated, then obeyed after he noticed the little program trembling. "'Ey, kitty. What happened t'you?"

Sekhmet looked at him, then hid her face in Marcus' coat. Marcus stepped in front of her. "The Merovingian."

"Ah. Say no more."

"Now what?" Pyre asked. Poni pulled out a cell phone and spoke briefly. Then she turned to the whole group. "We leave."

"Them too?" Red asked, jerking his thumb at the two programs. Poni thought for a second, and then nodded. "Sure, why not? Come along." Red put away his beloved guns to show that he wouldn't try to hurt them, offering the two rogues an apologetic grin. Poni led them on a twisted route, listening to the cell the whole time. This finally led them to the surface --and then into an old warehouse. "Alright, we're here."

Sekhmet looked around. Her fingers were clenched tightly on Marcus' coat. "Where's 'here'?" "Our ticket home, lass," Red grinned. Poni opened the door and waved them all inside. "Welcome t'ar 'ome base."

Red threw off his bomber jacket and stretched, revealing a dark green muscle shirt and muscular arms. "'Ey, Poni, luv, where's th' whiskey?" She didn't give him a second glance as she started to pull the cover off of a chair, which was attached to various electrodes. "On the ship."

"Awww… want me t' call Salvo now?"

"I'm on the phone wi' 'er. Get the bleedin' machine runnin'." She replied, a lot of command in her voice for being so young.

"Yes, _sahib," he replied, __salaaming to her before going to the chair and obeying. _

Pyre walked over to the machine. "What's that thing?" Poni didn't respond, and then pulled out a small case, which contained two pills--one red, one blue.

Red had heard the 'red pill, blue pill' speech many times. He ignored the two women once he had the machine running and instead turned his attention to the programs.

"This will all make sense if I take the red pill?" Pyre asked at length. Poni nodded. "Aye... won't be pretty, but it'll make sense."

Pyre popped the red pill.

Sekhmet groaned, slumping against Marcus. The vampire program held her. "What's wrong?" "I… feel funny…."

Worry marred Marcus's brow. "Do you need to lie down?"

"Marcus… something's wrong, something's happening to me!"

"What? What's wrong?" He held her tighter.

"It… it's _her_, Marcus! She's coming out!"

His eyes widened, and now he tried to instead restrain the girl. "You people have to leave now! Sekhmet has an assassin subprogram... and it's triggering now!"

Poni shook her head. "Can't. Red, get busy unplugging Pyre... I'll keep the kitty distracted until both of you can get out."

Red scowled, but obeyed her. "Damn it…. Programs," he muttered.

"Marcus…" Sekhmet whispered, staring up at him pleadingly. He continued to restrain her. "I'm sorry... I can't help you..." His face was full of sadness, and betrayed a profound feeling of uselessness. It was the last thing Sekhmet saw before she blacked out.

Bastet yowled and struggled in Marcus' hold, scratching him deeply several times with her claws. He winced, but tried desperately to hold onto the cat -- which was very difficult to do to any cat when it didn't want to be held. She slipped free, falling into a crouch. There was one major difference between Sekhmet and Bastet ‒ visually, that is. Sekhmet's eyes were blue. Bastet's were green.

"'Ere kitty, kitty, kitty." Poni called. "Bow out, Marcus. Ya love 'er, so you'll hold back."

Marcus hesitated.

"Don' worry. Ah'll be gentle... in me own way," Poni replied, dropping into a stance. Bastet smirked. "I wouldn't recommend it, human." "Neither would I. But Ah never was the bright one." She smirked back.

Red spared his captain a quick worried glance before returning to the task at hand. "Y'know, vamp, y'coulda tol' us she had a subprogram an' saved us a lot o' bloody trouble."

"I thought it was disabled," he replied, slipping back, still wanting to help, but also knowing the wisdom in letting Poni handle this.

"Y' think Merv is that bloody stupid?"

"Apparently not..."

"Let's dance," Bastet replied, unsheathing her claws once more. Poni smirked, not wavering at the sight of the claws. "I don't like the lead." "Fine. I'll be White, then," Bastet said before lunging for the woman. Poni waited until the last possible moment and then ducked away from the attack, slamming a high kick straight for Bastet's chin. She dodged the kick, coming in low and swiping at her legs.

The rebel hopped over the sweep, slamming her other knee into the cat-girl's chin as she switched post legs. Bastet was thrown back slightly. She snarled before lunging for Poni again. Poni stepped to the side as her foot came back down, twisted her leg around Bastet's to interrupt her footing, and then slammed an elbow into the small of her back.

Bastet would have executed a flip to stay on her feet, but the back blow had destroyed that chance. She hit the floor rather ungracefully. Poni slipped back into a stance. "You could at least try." The cat-girl rolled to her feet and snarled, her pretty face marred by the unflattering expression. "I'm merely getting warmed up."

The rebel cracked her neck a little. "That makes two of us." Bastet did not lunge this time, but instead circled her opponent warily. Poni moved her stance inward, putting both hands forward and closing her eyes. Bastet considered that a stupid thing to do in a fight, but continued circling, each circuit bringing her closer to the rebel captain.

Poni continued her stance, seemingly oblivious to the feline assassin. Within arm's reach, Bastet waited until she was behind the human and then slashed out, intending to sever her spinal cord. Poni flipped upwards from a standstill that very instant, over the feline and behind her, landing with an elbow strike at the point of juncture between the neck and collarbone of the program.

Bastet froze, then fell silently to the floor. Poni looked over to Red. "How's she coming?" "Almost done," the Irishman replied. "An' y' might wanna watch out fer th' pussycat. She ain't down yet." "Ah know, Ah know.." She replied, stepping back. "Get out of 'ere as soon as she's out. Ah'll be there shortly."

"Aye, aye, cap'n," he replied with a grin. "You havin' a good catnap, or do ya need a few more minutes on the floor?" Poni asked nonchalantly. Bastet growled as she rose, rubbing the nerve junction where she'd been hit. "Nice try," she spat. "Seemed ta work well enough ta me," she smirked, dropping back into a stance.

Bastet started to as well… but stopped. "What is… stay out of this, you weakling!" "Sekhmet!" Marcus called out, realising what was going on. "You can beat her... take control! It's your body!" "Shut up, you snivelling little coward!" Bastet snarled, ignoring him, pressing her hands to her temple.

"Take your body back, Sekhmet! please! I..." Marcus began.

"Go on, lad! Say it!" Poni called out.

"You what, vampire?" Bastet sneered. "You love the little coward? Ha! You've not even known her for two days!" 

"But... I do. I've loved her since I first saw her... I fell in love with her from the first sunrise..."

"How romantically cheesy from a program unable to see the sun!"

"One day…," he began, half-dreamily, "...I sat at the edge of the window at the Merovingian's estate... and I saw the light from the sunrise filter through, and I saw just barely the reflection in a picture... and I thought it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I thought the same thing when I saw Sekhmet first squeamishly approach the Merovingian... it's why I tried to escape... so I could find her... so I could find you, Sekhmet."

"Gag me with a spoon," Bastet growled, both hands clamped tightly to her temples. Red smirked. "Ah, but there is no spoon," he said. "This bitch thinks yer a coward, Sekhy. Ah dun think so. Ah think yer stronger'n her. Ya don' wanna do this. Beat her at her own game an' take yer life back," Poni urged.

"M-m-marcus…."

"Sekhmet!"

Bastet tried once more to keep control, then suddenly she/they fell to the floor, unconscious. Poni looked at the heap, then tossed a cell phone at Marcus. "Take that an' call us if ya want help freein' your kitten here...we're speed dial #1." Pyre suddenly cried out, and faded from view.

"An' there she goes," Red grinned. "Well, cap'n, since the fight's over, I'd say it's ladies first outta this place." She walked over and hung up the phone. It shortly began to ring. "Wait... why are you helping us?" Marcus asked.

Poni smiled. "Because you helped out the lassie." She bowed and then answered., and then faded from sight.

Red grinned as he caught and hung up the phone. "An' as th' Bible says, lad… 'An eye for an eye.' Th' thing most people don' realise 'bout that is that it works both ways. It's not only revenge, it's gratitude as well."

It began to ring once more. Marcus smiled. "Thank you and your captain... very much."

He grinned and answered; then the phone fell from where he had been standing. He'd left his jacket behind. 

_Whoops, it's a double update! This is to make up for last week's non-update -- due to visitation, we were unable to upload anything. ::shrug:: Now we've met some humans; isn't that nice? And isn't funny that at least one seems to know of our buddy Merv? ^_^_

**_Sugaricing:_**** _Well, Bastet is an assassin, so it fits. As for playful -- she's a cat. All cats are playful, in their own sadistic way. And as for Marcus, well… you certainly found out, now didn't you?_**

****

**_Alocin__:Of course she's tricksy… but she's a cat, not a hobbit. ^_^ And as for Merv, all congrats go to Soldier Zero -- he's the one playing Merv. Here's a trick; try to figure out who plays which character! And it's not so much that 'Sephone hates_ Merv… it's just that her husband is a cheating bastard. ::shrug::__**

_See you next chapter!_


	7. Agents

7

Marcus rushed over to Sekhmet/Bastet and put her head in his lap.  "I'm sorry."

"Marc…"

"Sekhmet?" he asked.  "Is that you?"  There wasn't an answer, but she was smiling.  He held brushed her hair out of her face and held her close.

At last, Sekhmet moaned and opened her eyes -- her blue eyes.  She was back.  "Welcome back."  Marcus replied, running his hand through her hair.  She smiled, struggling to sit upright until she was able to turn around and look at him.  "Marcus… did you… did you mean what you said?"

He nodded.  "Yes... yes I did."

Tears filled her eyes as she lunged forward, throwing her arms around his waist and burying her face in his stomach.  "Marcus…."  "It will be alright..."  He tried his best to hold her.  "Marcus… I think that… I love you too…."

He ran a hand through her hair, smiling.  She looked up at him with a shy smile.

"The rebels will be able to fix your programming, do not worry."

"I'm not," she replied softly, sitting upright again.  He looked to the door.  "Now… where do we go?"

"Somewhere Agents and the Merovingian aren't?" she suggested.  "In any case, we should not remain here… we may attract undue attention to our new friends' hideout."  Sekhmet nodded firmly before looking out the window.  "It's dark, anyway.  We can leave now."  He rose to his feet, a little shaky.  "Then let us leave."  Sekhmet noticed his unsteadiness.  "Are you all right?"  

"I am fine... just a little... hungry."

Her eyes widened.  "You eat by preying on humans, right?"

He nodded.  "Yes..."

She hesitated.  "How… much blood do you need?"  "I am not sure... a lot... and it must be from a human, I cannot feed on a program."  He replied.  Sekhmet bit her lip.  "We have to move, then."

"Sorry... it was partially a security function... the Merovingian knew he would not be safe if I could draw energy from him."  He started stumbling on shaky legs for the door.  Sekhmet slid under his shoulder to support him.  "My feeding may attract some attention from Agents.  It may not take long, but we will have to run afterward."  He opened the door and walked out with Sekhmet.

She nodded her understanding and soon pointed out a human.  Marcus slid away from Sekhmet and into the shadows.  Slowly, quietly, he grabbed the human and pulled him into an alley.  The cat-girl turned her face, unable to watch.  However, her mind churned with a sudden idea.  Marcus pulled out of the alley, energized.  He grabbed her arm.  "Come on... we have to make space between us and this area."

She nodded.  "Marcus… did you…."

He shook his head.  "No, not completely."

"So he'll live?"

"I believe so... if you wish to call an ambulance."

Sekhmet nodded.  "Do you have a phone?"

He handed her the rebel' s cell phone.  "Yes... but we must keep moving as you speak."  "I know."  Sekhmet dialled 911 quickly and gave the person as many details as she safely could.  "I wish I did not have to do that... but I my program no longer receives an energy source... so I must siphon some from a human... which causes a noticeable disruption."  Marcus explained.

Sekhmet did not answer.  Her idea was gaining strength.  "They're on their way to him.  Let's hurry."  They did indeed hurry, and ducked inside an alleyway.  "We need to find a way to hide your animal features."

"I need a long coat and a hat."  

He nodded.  "Should not be hard to find... first, however, we need a place to hide during the daylight."  Sekhmet nodded.  "A good thing cats are nocturnal, yes?" she said, smiling at him.  He smiled back.  "Yes, very good."

"Shall we look for a place to stay?" she asked him, sliding her hand in his.  He smiled and nodded.  "Yes, lets."  She smiled back, keeping her hand curled around his larger hand.  "Left or right?"  "Right."  He said after thinking for a moment.  She started off in that direction confidently, tugging at his hand to drag him behind her.  She turned her head to him and giggled mischievously.  He smiled back, but he still seemed a little melancholy, distracted.

"Marcus?  What's bothering you?"

"It's... nothing."  He tried to smile back.

"You can tell me."  

"As long as my programming is in place... kissing and other showings of affection… trigger the feeding mechanism."

Her hand loosened in his.  "Why?"  "You can still hold my hand... it's part of my programming."  She squeezed his hand.  "But why be programmed that way?"  "Ask the Merovingian."  He replied.  Sekhmet sighed.  "Figures."

Marcus looked around a little.  "Perhaps a hotel would serve our needs."

"How would we pay for rooms, though?" 

He shrugged.  "I do not know... but I do know we need some place to hide during daylight."  She nodded.  "We can always sleep in empty rooms… just swipe the keys and we're fine."

"You have a point."  He replied.  "But, where?"

"Anywhere is good, as long as it's away from him."  he looked back at her.  "We need to get you a coat and hat."  "I know," she replied softly, fingering one of her ears sadly.  He looked about a little more, and then saw a Goodwill store.  "There... we can break into it and get you what you need."

She nodded.  "Let's do it,  then."  Marcus walked to the door and slowly slid around back, pulling Sekhmet along with him. "We need to find a back entrance..."  Sekhmet pointed silently to a door.  He slipped towards it, eyed the lock for a few moments.  "Do you know how to pick a lock?"

She extended a single claw; a minute later,  the door was open.  The two slipped in and began to prowl around, looking for something to cover up Sekhmet's unique disability.  She found a trench coat swiftly enough, but the hat was harder.  Their search was interrupted, however, when a police car suddenly arrived at the front of the Goodwill.  Sekhmet froze, looking up at him.  "Marcus!"  He looked around rapidly, and then dove into a clothing rack, pulling Sekhmet with him.  She pressed herself against him, breathing rapidly, trembling in his arms.  If a human saw her ears, it'd be over -- an Agent would be there faster than ice would melt in Hell.

The policeman got out of the car and began to scan the store with his flashlight slowly through the large windows in front.  His partner got out of the car and slowly walked to the back.  Sekhmet tried to stop her gasping breaths, trying to stay calm.

Another light swept in now, this time from the back.  Marcus held Sekhmet very close.  She buried her face against his chest.  She could feel Bastet fighting to free herself, and shut the subprogram up by thinking very clearly that an Agent could easily handle either of them.

The policeman suddenly stepped right next to Marcus and Sekhmet's hiding place, sweeping the flashlight down the rows of pre-owned clothing and even inspecting a few racks.  Sekhmet clung tightly to the vampire program, trying hard to keep from whimpering in fear.  "That's a negative.  I don't see any sign of an intrusion," the cop called in.  Then he muttered something about "damn kids" and made his way out of the store.  The catgirl didn't dare relax.

The police car, however, didn't move from out front, the police inside talking into the walkie-talkie briefly.  Sekhmet looked up at Marcus, fright in her blue eyes.  Marcus watched the car for a moment.  Something was wrong... something didn't feel right.

"Is… is it him?" she whispered.

"No..."  He saw the bodies inside twitch... or convulse... or something.  "Sekhmet... I'm going to count to three.  Then you run for the back door, and you don't stop running until I find you.  Do you understand?"

She nodded, frightened.

"One..."  The car doors opened, and this time, a pair of dress shoes hit the pavement instead of regulation police wear.  "Two..."  Marcus pulled his gun out of his jacket.  Sekhmet prepared to run.  "Be careful, Marcus."  Two Agents stepped out of the car.  Marcus leapt out of the coat rack and shot for the window, aiming straight for the car's gas tank.  "Three!!!"

Sekhmet pushed away from him and ran like hell, silently praying that Marcus would come for her.

The bullets flew true, and the gas tank of the police car was ignited, sending one of the Agents into a street light, snapping his back and dropping the body of the cop to the ground in a flash of green light.  The other, however, stood, and began to advance on the vampiric program.

"An exile," he mused.  "Your programming is redundant.  Why do you persist in this… rebellion?  You know deletion is inevitable."

"Because I enjoy being ironic," he replied, gun still aimed at the Agent.

"Put the weapon away, exile," the Agent said.  "You know it will do no good."  "I disagree," he replied, keeping the weapon level.  The Agent merely shook his head, then suddenly charged the vampire.  The vampire leapt backwards, discharging his weapon repeatedly at the incoming malicious program.

Without even thinking about it, the Agent neatly avoided all the shots as he rapidly closed in on Marcus.  Marcus bolted for the back door, seeking to get the large metal barrier between himself and the agent... just to buy some time... just a little time.

He slammed the door shut in the Agent's face, but it didn't do much good: the agent simply ripped the door away from the wall.  Marcus had been counting on this.  As soon as the door shut, he twisted and shot the remaining three bullets in his gun into the space the door had once occupied.  Agents were fast, Agents were strong… but a door was a very awkward thing to carry.

And Marcus was awarded a small victory.  The arm of the Agent had been punctured deeply, and was bleeding profusely.  The rest of the Agent was in perfect condition, however, this was all the distraction Marcus needed.  He ripped a manhole cover free and, just before the Agent grabbed at him, he leapt deep into the sewer, and began to run into the labyrinth as fast as he could. 

***

Sekhmet ran until she fell from exhaustion and was no longer able to rise.  She groaned and tried several times before giving up.  She whimpered as it started to rain, but couldn't drag her overworked body to shelter.  She wasn't sure how long she lay half-conscious in the ditch affording her a small cover, waiting for discovery and deletion.

In time, however, she saw a light above her, a light that reached down and grabbed her into its arms, carrying her out of the ditch.  She whimpered again, trying to struggle, sure she was being taken away to deletion or to the Merovingian, but she could barely move.  "Do not worry, little one," came a soft voice possessing a heavy oriental accent.  "I will not hurt you."

For some reason… she trusted the voice and quieted, allowing herself to pass into full unconsciousness.

_I think I'm back on track as far as updates here are concerned… I dunno.  Christmas season might derail my "schedule" if I can't get out of shopping trips._

_Yes, it is official, Marcus and Sekhmet are indeed an item.  Sort of.  Obviously some minor reprogramming will have to be done to take care of certain problems Merv so helpfully tossed in.  For those of you who like the humans, they're not out of the picture just yet!  Stay tuned for round eight, coming your way soon._

_Hopefully__._

**_Alocin:__ Well, you made Soldier Zero happy, at least.  And as for the rebel/program relationships… keep readin' to find out.  ^__^_**

**_Echidnite_****_:_**** _Why, thank you.  We elected not to use main characters because of a) overdone plots, b) overdone plots, c) we don't do main characters too well anyway (or at least I don't…), and d) (_****REVOLUTIONS SPOILER!!!) Neo and Trinity, as well as Smith, are kind of dead.**

_Chapter Eight: We find out just who found Sekhmet (anyone who guesses right gets a cookie) and where she was taken; we also find out just how insane some of these characters can be.  _Jusqu'à la prochaine fois -- _Until the next time !___


	8. Oracle

8

Sekhmet sat up, wincing as she moved sore muscles, and looked around.  She was on a comfortable couch inside a modest looking apartment.  The smell of baking cookies hit her nose immediately.  She sniffed a few times, then her stomach growled.  She obeyed its call and followed her nose, her eyes looking for the light that had saved her.

Her nose brought her to a kitchen, where an elderly African-American woman was just pulling cookies out of the oven.  She saw Sekhmet and smiled.  "You're right on time.  They're nice and hot, fresh from the oven."  The woman slipped her spatula under one and offered it to the cat girl.

She hesitated, then accepted the cookie gingerly.  It was hot, but Sekhmet was careful not to drop it, instead taking a small bite from it.  The _deliciousness_ of it made her eyes widen, and she finished it quickly.

The lady smiled.  "That's it, child, eat it up.  You'll need all the strength you have to get over that cold in time."  She began to place the cookies on a platter.  Sekhmet blinked, then sneezed.  "_Gesundheit," she replied.  "Another cookie?"  Sekhmet nodded.  "Please."_

"Help yourself.  Oh, and don't mind the candy dish."

"What?"  Sekhmet looked up at the old woman as she reached for another cookie.  Too late, she felt her tail hit something and heard it hit the floor with a crash.  She winced.  

She smiled.  "That candy dish."

Sekhmet looked at her, startled.  "Who… are you?"  She held out a hand.  "They call me the Oracle."  The catgirl blinked as she accepted the older woman's hand.  "You see the future?"  "Something like that."  She smiled.  Sekhmet looked around.  "Where am I?"

"You're in my home.  Seraph brought you here."

"Seraph was the light?"

"He's been described that way, yes."  She began to put away her baking things.  Sekhmet sniffed the air for a moment, ordering her brain to ignore the scent of the cookies.  "You… are a program?"

"In a matter of speaking, yes, I am... you're going to need a Band-Aid for that foot."

"How can you be a program 'in a manner of ‒' ouch!" she yelped as her bare foot came down on the shards of the candy dish.  The Oracle pulled out a broom and began sweeping up the shards, handing her a roll of gauze bandage.  Wincing, Sekhmet sat on a chair and pulled some of the shards from her foot, then bandaged it.  "Where is… Seraph?"

She pointed to the doorway.  "Turn around in about five seconds."

Sekhmet stared at the Oracle for a long moment, then turned as a handsome Asian man dressed in black and white and wearing round sunglasses entered.  Sekhmet looked from one to the other, then gave up trying to figure out how the Oracle had known.  "I see our little friend has finally awoken," Seraph said kindly.  She smiled shyly and offered him an Oriental bow of greeting.  "I thank you for saving me," she said softly.

He bowed back.  "It was my pleasure."  Sekhmet smiled again, and found herself wondering if Marcus was all right.  "If you're wondering about the vampire... he'll be fine."  The Oracle replied.  Sekhmet's face went blank for a moment.  "Can you read minds as well, Oracle?"

She shook her head.  "Not at all.  You were just about to ask me."  Sekhmet sighed and gave up.

"Although the form you find him in may not be the one you remember."

Sekhmet stared at her.  "What do you mean?"  "He has a choice ahead of him."  the Oracle replied.  "And either way, he may not come out of the experience whole."  Sekhmet's eyes widened.  "Marcus…"  "But I'm sure he'll make the right choice.  Candy?"

The catgirl politely declined.  "Well, then, you must be tired.  Seraph, would you take her to her room?" the Oracle asked.  Seraph bowed.  Sekhmet hesitated.  "I shouldn't… I'm putting you both in danger…."

"Nonsense," she replied.  "You're safe here, child."

"But… Agents and the Merovingian are…."

"...not going to find you here," she finished.  Sekhmet nodded and gave in.  "All right… if you're sure."  "Positive," she replied.

Seraph stepped to the side of the beaded curtain.  "Shall we?"  Sekhmet nodded and followed him.  He led her to a different apartment in the building, next to the Oracle's.  "If you need anything, all you have to do is ask."  She nodded.  "Thank you, Seraph."  She held out her hand to him.  "My name is Sekhmet."

He took her hand in his, kissed it, and bowed.  "You already know my name."  She blushed slightly.  "Seraph… why did you rescue me?"

"The Oracle told me you needed help.  So I went to find you."

"But why help me in the first place?"  He smiled.  "Why not help you?"  "I… I belong to the Merovingian… and he installed a subprogram in  me… an assassin…."

"That does not worry me," he replied.  "You needed help.  I gave it.  It is as simple as that."

Sekhmet looked into his eyes, uncomprehending.  Seraph smiled.  "Do not worry about it."  At last the confused exile nodded.  "Sweet dreams, Sekhmet."  Seraph then started down the hall.  She watched him for a moment, then entered the apartment with a sigh.  

***

"Pyre... ya reealah need ta' realize.... this isn't Earth... it's not real."  Poni sighed.  "Try ta come at me again... and this time, mean it."

Pyre growled and then rushed Poni, just to be slapped against the ground once more.

Watching them on the green screen, Red grinned and longed for popcorn. He loved watching the trainees spar with Poni.

"Hey, Red!" came a very deep female voice from across the room.

"Yeah?" he called back.  "Remember that info you wanted on those Rogues?" 

"Y' have it, Sal?"

She nodded.  "And then some."  Red grabbed his whiskey bottle and sauntered over.  "Whatcha got?"  

"The sunrise and a wrecking crew."

"Lemme guess: th' vamp was th' wrecking crew?"

She nodded.

"Hmmm… what else ya got?"  

"They both went rogue... although the vamp's been rogue for... since before the One."

"I kinda guessed they were rogue when they helped Pyre outta 'er jam wi' th' agents."

"That's another thing... the vamp disappeared into the sewers.... he's being chased by an Agent as we speak."  Red frowned.  "I'm goin' in."

Salvo raised an eyebrow.  "You sure?  Poni won't like it."  

"'As that ever stopped me before?"

"That's why I already set up your entry point.  Get in the chair."

"You're a doll, Salvo.  I owe ya," he said, taking a swig of his White Lightning and hopping into the chair.

The plug jolted into the back of his neck, and, suddenly, Red was in the construct, the weapons racks quickly zooming forth to meet him.  He grinned and started arming himself, chanting, "Guns, guns, guns, guns," the whole time.  His chant did not change, even when he started picking out bladed weapons ‒ a pair of Oriental_ sai_ and as many Japanese _shuriken as he could carry._

His cell phone began to ring melodically, to the tune of an old Irish drinking song.

He answered.  "Yo."

"Are you done yet?"

"Yup!" he said cheerfully.

Suddenly, the world shifted and he "fell"  into the old warehouse.  As if a switch had been flipped, he sobered up instantly.  "How far away is he?"

"Hit the sewers.  He's headed for the some side tunnels that not many people know about.  He's outmanoeuvring the Agent, but the suit has the speed advantage.  You'll have to be quick."

"On it," he replied, hanging up and making his way to Marcus and the agent trailing him.


	9. Red

9

Marcus ducked behind a wall, careful to make as little noise as possible.  He knew these tunnels very well -- the most redundant programming quickly became what people couldn't see.  However, the Agent was locked on better than a seeking missile… and while the malicious program didn't always have dead aim, he was making some uncannily accurate guesses as to the vampire's location.

Without warning, a hand snagged the back of his jacket and drew him down a side tunnel.  The vampire twisted quickly to see just who this new assailant was, hand reaching for nonexistent gun.  The redheaded Irish rebel grinned at him, putting a finger to his lips and offering the vampire a pair of guns.  He took them, and then shook his head, mouthing "Agent."  "I know," Red mouthed back.

"Exit?" he asked.

Red nodded, then hesitated.  "I can't guarantee he won't follow."  He nodded.  "Lead the way," he mouthed.  Red nodded and made a "come on" motion, turning and heading down the tunnel.  Wisely, he switched his cell phone to vibrate.

Marcus stopped a moment.  "Explosive?" he mouthed.

"Th' Pope Catholic?"

He motioned for it.  Red pulled out the grenade and handed it to him.  He nodded, and then began to quickly head down the tunnel with Red.  Red took out his cell phone and dialled Salvo.  "Operator."

"Hey, what's th' stat on th' agent?" he asked softly.

"Not good... he should be entering your corridor... now."

"Shit!"

Marcus looked to him, and then instinctively looked back.  A bullet ricocheted off the wall not far from his head.  Red began muttering curses against his height -- he was about 6'6.  "Sal, a little help here?"  Marcus instead responded, "I'll handle this."  He pulled the pin from the grenade and started to count as the Agent ran closer, gun blazing.  Red winced as a bullet tore into his shoulder, raising both arms with their submachine guns and firing around Marcus and at the agent.

The agent began to run faster, gun getting more and more accurate.  Marcus then hurled the grenade, which reached an apex at the roof of the tunnel -- and then detonated, cracking the masonry and sending rock and dust down into the narrow passage.

Ignoring his bleeding shoulder, Red grabbed Marcus' sleeve and hauled the vampire after him as he bolted down the corridor.  "'Ey, Sal, direct me!"  

"Go straight about fifteen more meters, and then enter the service passage.  It's on the right!"  Marcus was running in time with the rebel.

"I'm no good at math.  Jus' say when!"

"When!"

Red swerved to the right, opening the door and dragging Marcus inside.  "Now what?"  "The tube ends in about twelve meters, right above a subway train track.  If you wait two minutes, you can jump on the next train.  Then drop off sometime before it reaches its destination, and make it to the warehouse from there."

"Agent, or moving train.  Fun. Do we _have_ two minutes?"

"Probably not, but its the only chance you have."

"Shit.  Thanks doll.  If I die, cremate me wi' th' White Lightning, then make Pyre learn how to make it.  That recipe's too good t' die with me."

"Alright.  Now shoot everything you have into the end of the tunnel."

"Got it.  Here, keep the vampire up to speed; I'll need both hands."  He tossed the phone to Marcus and raised both submachine guns again, emptying them, discarding them, pulling out two more, and repeating the process.

The barely visible agent dodged and weaved through the fire.  Marcus took the phone and also joined in, with Red's previously given guns.  Red muttered a curse as his third and last set of submachine guns ran out, now drawing semiautomatics and firing away.  "'S it two minutes yet!?"

"One more minute!" called Marcus, relaying the phone's message.

"Son o' a bitch!"  Red changed weapons again, firing the gun in one hand while dragging out another grenade.  He pulled the pin in an interesting manner, counted, then lobbed it left-handed down the hall at the agent before getting his gun back into his hand and firing with both hands yet again.

The grenade detonated after a moment, sending cracks through the tube.  "Now!" called Marcus.  Red dropped his guns, grabbed the vampire, and jumped, muttering, "Hail Mary, full o' Grace, th' Lord is with thee…"

They hit the top of the train.  Hard.  Marcus rolled away from Red's grasp, rolling to the side of the train and only barely grabbing the edge.

"…bless'd art thou 'mong women and bless'd is th' fruit o' thy womb…" Red continued, grabbing at the vampire's coat and hauling him back on top.  "Amen."  "Thanks," he replied.  "You might want to stay low."

"No kiddin'. I'm too tall t' be safe.  Gimme th' phone."  He handed the large man the phone.  That very moment, something else thumped onto the train, hitting the back and rolling to the edge, but maintaining a grip.

"Sal, _please tell me the agent didn't just get on the train?"_

"I would, but I don't like to lie."

"Holy Mary, Mother o' God!"

"That's an agent for you..."  Marcus mumbled.

"Sal, need some help here, luv."

"If you don't take that agent out somehow now, you're not going to get rid of him," she replied.

"Joy."  Red relayed the information to Marcus.

Marcus half crouched as the Agent pulled himself up onto the car.  He was more than a little dishevelled: his tie was off-centre, his glasses were smashed, and his gun was missing.  "It's the end of the line."

"That is so fuckin' cliché!" Red shouted.  He pulled something from around his neck.  "Oi, vampire.  In th' more'n likely event that I die, give these t' Poni fer me?  She'll know what t' do wi' 'em."  It was a pair of diamond rings on a chain.  He blinked.  "Alright... but you're not going to die... let's take the Agent on both at once.  All we have to do is knock him from the train."

"An' not go wi' him.  Easier said than done.  An' I'm a wee bit too tall t' jus' jump 'im."

"Me too… fortunately, though, he has to crouch too... and it's impeded his speed a bit."  Marcus' words were indeed true -- it was taking longer than normal for the agent to advance.

"Hey… I got an idea."  He leaned over and whispered it to Marcus, who nodded.  "Good plan."

The Agent began to pick up speed, getting closer and closer.  Marcus moved into his lowest stance.  Red crouched as low as he could, which really wasn't that low.  The top of a moving subway wasn't meant to be stood on -- much less fought on.  Low hanging lights were a heavy environmental hazard, and tunnels could mean death to either party.

Marcus grinned grimly.  An even playing field.

Red was not quite as confident as his vampiric ally.  He, as the tallest among them, was in the most danger.  The agent closed in, and suddenly leapt forth, punching rapidly at Red.  Marcus closed in from the side, sweeping at the program's legs.

At the same time, Red gave the agent a hefty shove in the direction he would fall if Marcus' sweep worked.  The agent dodged, trying to move back with the push... however, it didn't work out well, and he stumbled slightly.  Marcus took this opening and slammed a forearm towards the agent.  The program caught the limb, and flung the vampire back, sending him crashing into the roof of the tunnel and into the train's roof.

Red lunged for the agent with a growl.  The agent was ready, and tried to retaliate -- but failed as Marcus grabbed his foot, yanking hard.  Red found himself staring the agent in the face.  "Go t' hell, y' son o' a bitch!"  His powerful forearms shoved the program over the edge.

The agent's arms flailed for something to grab -- and caught Red's arm. The Irishman's eyes widened; he wasn't exactly a lightweight, but he was awkwardly balanced, and the agent's weight was enough to send Red falling after him.

"Oh, GOD!"

Marcus's arm shot out, trying to grab the rebel's foot.  Red's arm flung out at the same time, grabbing hold of a window.  He hung thus, precariously balanced.  The agent, however, had fallen too low.  His leg got trapped in the wheels of the train, pulling him further in.  However, the program showed no emotion, keeping its death grip on Red's arm.

Red gritted his teeth, reciting Hail Marys continuously and, praying that Marcus was as strong as vampires of lore were, let go of the window to pull out another gun.  "See ya in Hell," he growled between prayers, shooting the agent twice in the head.

The agent reverted to a police officer, and was dragged into the wheels of the train with a sickening crunch.

"HELP!" Red howled.  "I don' like it here!"  Marcus grunted and pulled the rebel back on the roof of the train.  Red hugged the roof with trembling limbs before being violently ill.  "We have to jump off before the next stop, or else we're going to get a parade of agents coming off the train."  Marcus replied.

"Y' tell me when.  I'm going t' enjoy every minute left o' me life," the Irishman muttered, before throwing up a second time.  "Or be sick; that works too," he said weakly.  Marcus pulled out the phone and listened.  "Now!"  He leapt off the side.  Somewhere the brawny redhead drew up the strength to jump.  He hit the floor hard and rolled, then didn't get up.

"Come on... we still have to make tracks before the agents find us again."

Red groaned.  "How in Hell d' you rogues put up wi' it?" he asked, rising slowly to his feet.  "Lots of practice."  he replied.  Another groan.  "Now where?"  "We walk back to the previous station and go up to the street.  From there, it should be easy to find the warehouse."  He tossed the phone back to Red.  "Thanks Red."

"No… problem."  He tucked the phone inside his bomber jacket.  "Shall we?"  Visibly he had recovered, but inside the big man was shaken and trembling like a child.  "My path branches after the station.  I have to find her."

"Hold on a sec.  Lemme call Salvo.  She found you, she can find your girl."  He walked in silence as Red contacted the operator.  Red grinned and hung up.  "I know where she is.  'Parently th' Oracle's taken 'er in."

He smiled.  "Appreciate it."

"No prob.  I'll be seein' ya, then?  Or ya wan' me t' go wi' ya?"

"I can find her."

Red nodded, then headed to the warehouse.

Marcus nodded back, and then set out to find the oracle.


	10. Caught!

10

Sekhmet was curled up on the bed in the apartment she had been provided, worried sick about Marcus.  The older vampire had been gone for a week now, and she was scared he'd been deleted.

"Still so worried, child?"

Sekhmet nodded miserably.  She was, after all, a very young program; she'd written sunrises for close to two years, she'd only been an exile for a few months and free for a week and a half.

The Oracle sat on the edge of the bed.  "Don't worry.  Everything will be alright."  Sekhmet didn't move.  She knew better by now to plague the woman with 'what-ifs'.

"He has avoided his choice for now... but it will still come."

"What choice?"

"The choice I told you about before... where he must lose a part of himself."

Sekhmet was silent, knowing that she would get nothing more from her.  "I miss him…."

"You don't have long to wait."

Sekhmet perked up a bit.  Just then, there was a knocking at the door.  The catgirl sprang from the bed and bounded to the door, hoping that it was Marcus.  Seraph entered the room.  Her hopes died in mid-air.  She was barely able to give him a bow of greeting before fleeing to a back room, fighting tears.

"Are you okay?" a different voice came now, from behind her.  Sekhmet froze, scarcely daring to breathe.  "M-marcus…?"  He smiled.  "Who else?"  "MARCUS!" she shrieked, turning and lunging to hug him tightly.

He hugged her back.  "Marcus… I was so worried," she whispered, holding him.  "I thought an Agent had gotten you or the Merovingian had taken you back…."  "No, I'm fine," he smiled.  She gazed up at him, a smile in her blue eyes, and her small hand softly caressed his cheek.  "I'm glad you escaped."

"I'm glad you escaped too."

"Seraph saved me," she told him softly, "when I couldn't run anymore.  He brought me to her."  "I owe him a lot, then."  He smiled at her.  Sekhmet smiled back and nodded, holding onto the vampire.  "We owe Red very much now...," Marcus mused.

"Red?" she asked, looking up at him curiously.

"The rebel... he helped me escape the Agent."

"He… purposely entered the Matrix… to help you?  Against an A_gent_!?"

He nodded.  "Yes."  Sekhmet goggled at the concept.  "But… humans _run from Agents!"  "Usually, yes," he replied.  Sekhmet drew closer to Marcus.  "You're right… we owe him a lot."  He held her tightly.  She smiled up at him.  "I… I don't think we have to worry about a place to stay."_

"Oh?  She wouldn't mind?"

"I… don't think so…"

He smiled.  "I'm glad."  "Me too," Sekhmet answered.

****

Red grinned as he saw the warehouse up ahead.  "Home and whiskey, here I come," he sang softly.  "Another day I have survived, another drink I will imbibe."  His voice deepened to the bass register as he changed tunes.  "_I've been a moonshiner for many's the year/ I've spent all me money on whiskey and beer/ I'll go to my hollow an' I'll set up me still/ An' I'll make you a gallon fer a ten-shillin' bill/ I'm a rambler, I'm a gambler, I'm a long ways from home/ An' if ye don' like me, well let me alone/ I'll eat when I'm hungry an' I'll drink when I'm dry/ An' if moonshine don' kill me I'll live till I die…."_

How he loved the songs of his homeland.

Suddenly, a razor pressed againsr his throat.  "Tell us where they are."  Red reacted instantly, his gun coming up behind him and blasting his assailant three times -- or it would have, had the holder of the razor not turned incorporeal.  Red sprang forward and whirled, seeing the freaky albino who had nearly killed him in the Merovingian's château six years earlier.  "Oh… shit…."  He leapt into the air, bending the rules of the Matrix and landing on top of a back-alley building. 

The Irishman dialled Salvo quickly.  "Oi, Sal-me-love, gimme an exit, quick!  Or I ain't comin' ho--" A gunshot rang out, striking his hand and forcing him to drop the cell phone.  "SHIT!"  His assailant finished floated through the building behind the man and shoved him hard off his perch.  Red barely managed to catch hold of the roof, looking up at the albino… then down at the albino.  "Sweet Mary Mother o' God," he whispered.  "There's _two_ o' him!"

The Twin faded back down into the building as the other approached from behind again.  Red pushed off of the wall, coming up and around the edge to land again on the roof, where he retreated to the middle, picking up his cell phone on the way.  "Sal, love, y' there?"

The reception was iffy.  "Yeah...m...ere..."

"Sal… I don' think I'm comin' home," he said softly, his eyes darting around for the albinos.  They were approaching on either side of him.  "Don' unplug me unless y' have to.  I'd rather not die if there's a chance I c'n escape."

"..ed....r..n...now..."

Red muttered something about lousy reception and ran for all he was worth, leaping to another building and landing awkwardly.  He winced as he felt his ankle snap.  "Shit."  The twins zoomed up through the roof, on either side of him.  "Where are they?" one demanded.  "I dunno what th' hell yer talkin' 'bout," Red replied, testing his weight.  The leg wouldn't support him.  Nowhere to run.

The Twins advanced, flipping out their razors.

The Irishman growled, discarding his leather jacket and drawing his last pair of guns. He'd have to be careful if he was going to survive this.  They suddenly rushed forward, slicing down hard at the rebel.   He fired his guns, causing them and their weapons to become mist.  They stepped back then, trying to get around the Irishman, to be on either side of him.

Forgetting his ankle, he took a step back and collapsed as it gave way.  "SHIT!"  The Twins moved in instantly, one's foot rising in a kick into the falling rebel's back, the other meeting this motion perfectly with a powerful double punch.  Red yelled in pain and nearly blacked out; on board the _Zodiac, his "sleeping" body coughed blood._

"We are getting irritated.  Where are they?"

"Go… t' hell," he ground out through clenched teeth.

They raised their blades to finish him... when suddenly one of their cell phones rang.  They both halted as the one received orders from someone loud and French.  "Holy God," Red whispered before blacking out.  "I'm dead."

***

He woke slowly, hoping he had miraculously jacked out of the Matrix, but the pain in his shoulder and ankle proved otherwise.  Red groaned, trying to move, and quickly discovering that each of his limbs had been tied down.  _Looks like Merv ain't takin' any chances wi' me….___

"So, it finally awakens," came a deep French accent.  "Y'know, what I don' understand is how y' French c'n be so arrogant after th' Germans kicked yer collective ass in World War II," Red replied easily.

"I do not see how you people can be so arrogant after ze machines enslaved your entire race," he retorted.  "Touché," the rebel answered softly, testing his bonds.  "You will find zey are quite stable," the Merovingian smirked.

"What th' hell d'you want, Merv?" Red demanded angrily.

"Ze rogues."

"Don' have 'em."

"Ah, but you know where zey are."

"What'd ya do?  Tap th' line?"

"I 'ave my ways."

"I refuse t' believe this is jus' about them."

"You underestimate how petty and vindictive I am," he replied.

"Or maybe I overestimate how badly I pissed you off six years ago."

'That too.  Do you know what you're lying on?" the Merovingian asked suddenly.  "No," Red replied, "But I get th' feelin' it ain't good f'r me health."

"You are correct, at least in zat assumption.  You are currently lying," the Merovingian walked over to a wheel on the wall, "on a rack."

"Well, fuck."

"You are aware of ze principle behind ze invention?"

"Me high-school hist'ry teacher was sadistic.  He explained 'bout th' torture devices in graphic detail… don't y' think I'm tall 'nough as is?"

"No.  Now, tell me what I want to know... and perhaps I will not use ze machine... zat much."

"I thought ya knew ev'rything."

The Frenchman turned the wheel slightly.  Nothing from the Irishman but a wince.  "I didn't hear anysing… maybe if I turn it more..."  The rack was given another, longer turn.  Red gritted his teeth, thinking, W_ell… twenty-four's a nice age t' die at… no kids left behind, no grieving widows, jus' me n' this cheese-eatin' sadist…._

The Frenchman then pulled away.  "On second thought... perhaps your friends will come to save you."

"What friends?"

"Ze rogues.  Ze rebels."

"Bullshit they'll come after me."

"I sink ze rogues will."

"Why in hell would they do that?"

"I know zis Marcus.  I sink he may sink he owes you."

"I doubt it."

"You would be surprised."

"Bite me."

"I would rather 'ave Abel 'andle that."

Red growled.

"I will let you stay 'ere for a bit... after all, you aren't going anywhere with zat ankle."  

"No shit, Moriarty."

The rack turned slightly once more, and then the door to the cell opened and closed.

"… fuck…" Red muttered before blacking out once more.

_Yes, it's a triple update!  Just don't expect any more updates for about two weeks; both Soldier Zero and myself have finals to contend with.  Reviewer's notes'll be in the next update, however, to **Alocin, congrats for having correctly guessed Sekhmet's saviour.  We only made it slightly obvious.  ^_^**_

_Virtual cookies for Alocin.___

_Next contest: Guess what Red did to piss Merv off so much!  Can you do it?  People who guess correctly get previews of Red's back story.  Oh, and before y'all ask: Yes, Red is insane.  He is Irish, and he is one of my characters.  _

_(Note: I love the Irish, except for the IRA.  Don't flame me if you think I insulted them somehow.)_

_See ya in two weeks!_


	11. Rescue

11

Marcus awoke suddenly a few hours after dawn, in his shaded room.  Something was deeply troubling him.  Sekhmet lay curled against his side -- when had _she_ come in!? -- her face anything but serene.  She was not sleeping well.  Marcus didn't stand, for fear of waking her... but something was upsetting him greatly... and he didn't know what.

She woke on her own a few moments later, her eyes wide.  "No…"  "What is wrong?"  Marcus asked, concerned.  She shuddered.  "I had a dream… we were with him again… and he gave me to them…."

He held her.  "I am sorry."  

"It was just a dream… why are you awake?"

"I have a sense... of wrongness...."

"What do you mean?"

"Something's wrong... something bad is happening right now."

Sekhmet frowned.  "To who?"  He shook his head.  "I'm not... sure."  "Should we ask her?" Sekhmet queried.  He considered.  "If she can tell us."

"You mean if she _will_ tell us.  She's not too good with straight answers."

"You have a point... even if we know... I cannot do anything now."  He gestured to the closed window  "You can't," Sekhmet replied, "but I can."  He shook his head.  "If it is truly terrible, then we both must go."

"I could take Seraph along if it's an urgent right now thing."

He thought for a moment.  "I guess…."

"Come on, then."

He stood and went with her to see the Oracle.  She knocked softly on the woman's door, casting nervous glances along the hall.  The door opened, and Seraph was there.  "Come in.  She has been expecting you."

The cat-girl bowed to him and led Marcus inside.  The old woman was in the kitchen again, this time sitting at the table and smoking.  "Oracle," Sekhmet started to ask, then hesitated -- after all, it was Marcus who had the feeling, not her.  Marcus continued, "Something bad is happening.  Do you know what it is?"  She looked up at Marcus for a long moment, then puffed on her cigarette again.

"Is it the rebels?" Sekhmet asked softly.  "He knows," she said, looking into Marcus's face again.  Sekhmet looked between them, feeling as if this was flying over her head.  "When Red and I were separated... I saw the Twins out, looking for someone..."  Marcus said softly.  "I assumed me."

The girl was definitely confused.  "But… why would the Merovingian come after him?"

"To get us... I doubt he would try to go after someone in the Oracle's care, and I am good at making myself hard to find."

"So we should go get him."

Marcus nodded.

"Are you coming, or will you catch up at dusk?"

"I have little choice."

Sekhmet nodded, and stood on her very tip toes to softly kiss his cheek.  "I'll be fine, Marcus.  I promise."  He smiled weakly in return.  "Alright."  She turned to the Oriental program.  "Seraph, will you help me?"  Seraph looked to the Oracle, and then back and nodded.  "Of course."  "Thank you," she said with a smile before turning and hugging Marcus fiercely.  "I'll come back.  I swear it."

"I know."  He smiled back.

***

A young man watched the screens over the operator's shoulder.  "Salvo-san… why did they not kill him?"  "He's tryin' to use Red as bait for the rogue programs."  Poni replied, interrupting Salvo.  The young man watched thoughtfully.  "Epona-san… with your permission, I would like to enter the Matrix and do what I can for Poitin-san."

"And what, exactly, do ya think you could do?"

"Get to him in ways you cannot."  He allowed himself a small smile.  "I am the sneak, as he so delicately termed it, am I not?"

"What's your point?"

"An assault is expected to come.  But with many people, not just one."  She thought about this.  "Ya have a point, but alone?"  

"If you would like to help, Epona-san, you are  the captain and I must bow to your orders.  I would prefer to go alone, however, and minimize the danger to the rest of the crew."

She considered this.  "Alright... but be ready for us ta come and bail ya out if ya bite off more'n you can chew."

"Of course, Epona-san."  The boy bowed to her in the manner of his people before turning to the Dream Chairs, again as Red had put it.  Salvo was already typing away.  "Your entry point's almost ready."  "_Arigatou_, Salvo-san," the young man replied, leaning back and closing his eyes, already finding his centre.

Poni plugged him in, and Salvo pressed the last key, dropping him into the construct.  He immediately began methodically choosing his weapons.  He looked longingly at a _naginata_, or glaive, before deciding it was too bulky for his purposes and instead selecting a _kodachi_, a number of _shuriken_, and a pair of _sai_.  He opened his cell phone and dialled the _Zodiac_.

"Operator."

"I am ready, Salvo-san," he said.  The world distorted, and he found himself once again in the warehouse.  "Salvo-san, how far am I from Poitin-san's location?"

"Far.  You need a plane."

"So get me one.  And the programming to fly it."

***

Sekhmet looked nervously up at the Merovingian's château.  Was she really going in there willingly?  She softly bit her lip, taking care not to accidentally draw blood with the fangs he had given her.

Seraph walked forward.  "You are sure you wish to go?"  "No, but I must go in there.  Marcus owes the rebel his life, and the longer he is there, the less are his chances of survival," she replied, tail gently waving.

Seraph started to walk forward then, hands reaching inside the coat.  "If we are lucky, he will not be guarded."  Sekhmet nodded and followed him on silent feet.  It occurred to her suddenly that there had been no evidence of Bastet since she had left Marcus in the Goodwill store.  But why?  Surely the subprogram would have tried to assert herself by now…

Sekhmet pushed that thought to the back of her mind.  She would wonder about it later.  Seraph walked up to the front door and tried it.  "It is locked."  "Of course," Sekhmet said.  "Nothing is simple."  She unsheathed her claws.  "Have you a key to open it, or shall I?"

He gestured widely to the door.  She nodded and delicately inserted a claw into the keyhole.  Some delicate work, and it was unlocked.  She smiled softly.  "At least my curse has a benefit."  They both walked in then, moving against the walls, keeping out of sight.

Sekhmet kept an eye out for the Merovingian's more feared minions, namely Cain and Abel as well as the Twins.  It would not do to be captured while on a rescue mission.  Although Seraph figured that this was exactly the Merovingian's plan... it was more than likely there would be traps.

Sekhmet was growing more and more nervous by the minute.  This was easily seen due to the black fur on her tail starting to stand out like that of a frightened cat.  Seraph slowly began to turn a corner... and then stopped.  Sekhmet stopped behind him, peeking over his shoulder.

The werewolf Cain had a gun to the Asian man's head.

"Looks like I caught a couple of trespassers."

Sekhmet glared at the older program.  "Let him go, Cain."  "You're in no position to be ordering anybody around," came a voice behind the girl.  Abel.  She turned slowly to see the other werewolf holding a gun to her head.  Her eyes narrowed as her brain raced through the options.

"How much a bonus you think we'll get?"  Cain called to Abel.  Abel grinned wolfishly.  "A big one."  "I don't think so," Sekhmet muttered.  Seraph reached back and grabbed Sekhmet's hand.  Then, his free hand whipped out, knocking the gun from Cain's hand as he pulled the cat girl down, his foot launching backwards and into Abel's hand.

Abel snarled as the force of the kick knocked the gun from his hand, then Sekhmet had sprung to her feet and launched herself at him, claws coming out and scratching him deeply, eliciting a yelp from him.

Cain tried to fight back, but Seraph was too fast, leading into a quick combo of pummelling into the werewolf's chest.  Abel, on the other hand, had recovered quickly.  He had years' more training than this little kitten, after all.  He toyed with the girl now, blocking her attacks with ease.  He threw her down easily and smirked.  "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty…."

Seraph threw Cain away, and then rushed to Abel, launching a quick three-punch combo at the other wolf.  He yelped as the punches threw him back.  Sekhmet got to her feet, hissing angrily.  As much as she hated fighting, she had to train more.  Otherwise she'd be defenceless against the assassin/bodyguard programs like Cain and Abel and the Twins.

Cain got up then, and then began to press the fight with Seraph from behind while he was busy with Abel.  The Asian program dodged these blows almost preternaturally, entering into combat with them both.  Sekhmet watched, feeling like extra weight.  She really _had_ needed his help.

Suddenly, Seraph called, "Watch out!" a second before a hand reached out from behind her and grabbed the cat girl over the mouth, a razor rising to her neck.  Sekhmet's eyes widened in fear at the cold kiss of the razor's edge against her throat, freezing in place.  She whimpered a little at the even colder touch of her captor, realising that it had to be one of the Twins.

EDITED.


	12. Archangel

12

Seraph started forward, but stopped.  "Move and she dies," the ghost-like program called out, pressing the blade even harder against her throat.  Sekhmet closed her eyes and whimpered again, starting to tremble.  _No…,_ she thought, feeling a trickle of blood slowly run down her neck.

Seraph halted then, and he was quickly restrained by Cain and Abel.  Sekhmet looked beseechingly at the oriental program, apologising to him with her eyes.  It was her fault he'd been taken.

The ghost Twins then hauled Sekhmet away, leaving Seraph to the mercy of Cain and Abel… although, more accurately, once the twins were out of sight and hearing range, they were at his.

Sekhmet would have fought her captors, but the blade against her neck convinced her otherwise.  One of her worst fears was being realised -- she was alone with _them_.  "We've been getting a little shaky lately... seems that the razor just _slips_ every now and then," the Twin not holding her, who was walking ahead, called back.

Her shaking intensified at the sound of his voice as well as the message it carried.  _Marcus…_, she thought, closing her eyes.  Then she became aware of something… like the last time…  Sekhmet moaned, feeling suddenly ill.

"Did we upset you?" the Twin holding her, who she recognised as Two due to the slight difference in his scent, asked, voice containing no concern and a lot of dark glee.  The catgirl moaned again, the feeling worsening.  "No…," she whispered, "not her, not now…."

"What was that?"

Sekhmet didn't answer, focusing now on fighting the subprogram.  "We asked you a question," the leading one replied.  Again, she did not answer.  She hadn't heard the statement, so intent on her inward battle was she.  The Twin slapped her.  "You answer us when we speak."  Bastet unexpectedly gave in, and Sekhmet gasped as the slap turned her face to one side.

"What did you say?" One inquired again.  "I was referring to a personal problem," she said softly.  She was slapped a second time.  "You don't seem to listen well."  She whimpered, wanting to cringe away, but that would only bring her into more physical contact with Two.

"Answer the question."  The razor pressed deeper against her throat.

Sekhmet's eyes widened, and she meekly told them what she had said.

"Why didn't she come out, then?"

"I don't know."

"Don't know?"  Two's blade now slowly traced down her cheek.  "Or won't tell?"  She let out a low moan of fear.  "I don't know!  I know nothing about her!"  "Do we believe her?" the assaulting Twin asked, grinning.

"We don't know... she could be lying...."

"I'm not lying!" she cried desperately.

"Enough!" came a heavily French accented voice.  Never had Sekhmet thought she would be so relieved to see the Merovingian.  The Twins immediately pulled away, and their leader stepped in closely.  "So, it looks like ze little cat has come for her lover's saviour, correct?"  Sekhmet averted her gaze, not answering him.  Of course, her silence was most likely as eloquent as a 'yes'….

"But... where is ze vampire?  Surely he did not send you out alone?"

Again she was silent.

"I would not exactly call zat ze act of one who truly loves you, would you?"

Nothing.

"Where is ze vampire now?"

A further absence of dialogue.

The Merovingian pulled out a remote.  "Do I need to resort to zis again?"  She cringed away, but was determined to keep her mouth shut.  He depressed the button.

Bastet shook her hair out in relief.  "At last!"  

"Now, ze answers to ze question?"

She nodded.  "The vampire and my other self have been living in an apartment beside the Oracle.  Sekhmet left as soon as Marcus realised the human was in danger; he himself could not because his programming renders him unable to exist in daylight."

"I see... anysing else I should know?"

Bastet scowled.  "The Oracle's guardian, Seraph.  I am unable to manifest in his presence.  Source knows I tried."

"Seraph is here?"

"Yes.  I expect that Cain and Abel are lamenting that fact as we speak."

"I expected as much... you two, go try and find Seraph.  I will escort our guest."  The Merovingian commanded.  The two Twins then departed.  Bastet awaited her master's orders.  "Bastet, you come with me... we 'ave much to discuss...and I 'ave just ze trap in mind..."  Her lips curved in a slow, malicious smile.

***  

The Japanese boy stood just inside the open door of the manor, planning his route.  At last, he nodded and slipped into the shadows, creeping along the halls like a wraith.  Along the way, he found the moaning, unconscious bodies of two... seemingly men.  He paused to regard them for a moment before continuing along his path, searching for Poitin-san.  He had turned off his cell phone, expecting that a man or program as powerful and old as this Merovingian would have a paranoid streak a mile wide and would therefore have monitors to track electronic equipment.

"Are you looking for something?"

He tilted his head up to see another man dressed as he was, also of oriental origin.  Archangel's eyes narrowed.  This man was a program, or he was the Queen of England.  "I might be."

"And if you are, what may it be?" the stranger asked, stepping closer.

"It could be an ally," he replied, holding his ground, but ready to drop into a fighter's crouch.  

"I too, am looking for an ally."  

"Quite coincidental, is it not?"

"Very... I am sorry."

"As am I."  He offered the older man a quick bow.  Seraph bowed back, and then lashed out a backhand for the young man's face.  The boy blocked, stunned by his opponent's speed.  _Definitely a program._ He quickly found that, despite his years of training, it was all he could do to block the other man's varied blows.  He also found out that the more hits that landed, the more that did.  

The program snapped out even more punches, and then launched a kick for the rebel's torso.  He was a shade too slow in blocking, and was thrown back into a wall -- or he would have been, had he not grabbed hold of the other's ankle.  Seraph raised his other foot, kicking out at the rebel's head with incredible speed, twisting around and landing on both feet.  The young man barely dodged the blow to his head, ducking under the kick and leaping away from the other man to catch his breath.  

The odds were all in favour of him losing this battle.  

Then, to his surprise, the man stopped the fight and bowed.  "I have seen enough."  Archangel hesitated, then bowed as well, accepting the verdict.  "I am sorry, but you do not truly know someone until you fight them," Seraph explained.  He understood.  "My _sensei_ believed that as well.  I have yet to find him false.  I am Archangel."

"I am Seraph."  Archangel nearly started at that name.  _It couldn't be the same man who founded the _Tenshi no Sento…_ could it?  If he is a program, as I suspect he is, it makes sense… but… the Seraph who started the style had wings… this one does not…._

"And have I passed your test, Seraph-san?"

"You have.  But the real question is, have I passed yours?"

"I doubt you mean to cause me harm.  You could have killed me quite easily during our fight, Seraph-san.  You did not."

"Very well then... I suppose you are looking for the human Red?"

"Poitin-san?  I am."

"I am here to find him as well... although I was with a friend who was captured."

"The female _neko_?"

He nodded.  "So Poitin-san was bait for her and the vampire."

"I am aware of that... we are fortunate they have both not yet been captured."

"_Hai_… something bothers me, however.  The program known as the Merovingian had Poitin-san on a rack and was using it.  Would he do that to one who had caused him no problems?"

"I would not put it past him."  Seraph replied.  Archangel sighed.  "I cannot help but feel that there is something more to it… I know that he was a thief before he was unplugged, _demo_…"

"That may have something to do with it...,"  Seraph contemplated.  "At any rate, we should hurry."

"_Hai_, but to Poitin-san or the girl?"

"Whichever we first come across."  Seraph replied, picking up both of the werewolves' guns and holstering them in the back of his waistband.

Archangel nodded and fell in behind Seraph.  He paused for a moment, then leapt for the ceiling, grabbing a rafter and clinging to it with his arms and legs, saying as he did so, "Someone approaches."  Archangel wasted no time in copying the program's action.

The Twins walked by then, moving with an almost eerie grace and silence.  They seemed to be searching... without really searching.  Something about them made Angel nervous, and he clung tighter to the rafter.  They stopped right under the two fighters, looking around silently.

Slowly, balancing himself, Archangel withdrew one hand from the beam and placed it against the hilt of his _kodachi_, more for comfort than anything else.  The Twins remained for a moment longer, and then continued to drift down the hallway, one fading into the floor as he walked.  Archangel's eyes widened as he saw that, and he turned his head to look at Seraph.

Seraph wasn't surprised.  He watched the ghost Twins with great caution as they left.  Archangel hadn't much practiced hanging from a rafter with three limbs.  He felt his strength give and had time to mutter, "_Kuso_," before falling to the floor.

EDITED.


	13. Persephone

13

The Twins immediately halted and turned, the one sliding into the floor disappearing completely into the surface.  "Who are you?"  "I am nobody," Archangel replied calmly, his face utterly devoid of expression.

The Twin behind him materialized from the floor.  "What is your program?"  "I used to delete outdated programs.  I am now outdated.  I chose not to face deletion."

"Your current program?"  Said the one behind him.

"That I am unsure of."

"Not sure?" said the one in front, now closing quickly.  "What did the Merovingian tell you to do?"

"I regret to say that I have not yet met with him.  I have only been outdated for a short time."

"If you delete outdated programs... then why were you on the ceiling?"

"And if you haven't met him, why are you inside the château?"

"I was on the ceiling because I have learned that it is easier to travel in that manner," his hand had not once left his sword hilt, "and I am here to meet with him.  I doubt he is expecting me."

"Who modified your program to allow for that?"

"Then how did you get there?"

"I cannot tell, and I walked.  A remarkable thing, walking."

"Cannot?  Or will not?"

"Yes."

"No one can walk here.  It's miles to anything."

"I told you: I am no one."

"You said no _body_... an interesting proposition," replied the one in back.  Archangel kept his face strictly blank and remained silent.  The Twins circled him once more.  He stood still, watching their movements, trying to get a feel for their fighting style.  "How did you get through the locked door?"

"It wasn't locked," he replied.

"How do you feel about the Oracle?"

He shrugged.  "She exists, that is all I know.  I've not met her, therefore I do not hold an opinion."

"The Merovingian?"

"Same answer.  However, I am more inclined to think that he will find me more useful than she would."

"Then how do you feel... about the humans?  Both the coppertops and the 'free' ones."

"It depends on whether or not they are trying to kill me.  As long as they stay out of my way…"  He allowed himself a shrug.

They scrutinised him closely.  "You need an appointment to meet with the Merovingian."

"I was unaware of that."

"He's a busy man... doesn't care for people interrupting his work... things happen to those people."

"Bad things, presumably…."

"Things like us happen to them."

"As I said."

"And he especially doesn't like people bothering him here... go to the club or the restaurant if you want to speak with him on matters of business."

Archangel considered his options.  Run like hell seemed to be a good one.  "Do you want to be thrown out by the front door, or into the city?"  Yeah, run like hell was a good option.  Hoping Seraph-san had had the sense to leave, Archangel leapt over the heads of the Twins and ran.  The Twins instantly dematerialized and rushed after the rebel.  Seraph followed them stealthily, eager to give Archangel any edge he needed should the two ghostlike programs catch the young rebel. 

Archangel glanced over his shoulder and saw the ghosts.  "_Kuso!_" he muttered, increasing his pace.  The immaterial programs slipped into the walls and ceiling, quickly becoming unseen... and untraceable.  Archangel released a short burst of language Poitin-san had taught him and ducked down the first corridor he saw, turning on his cell phone.  "Salvo-san!"

There was no response on the cell.

He said another word taught to him by the Irishman and kept moving.  Suddenly, one of the Twins popped up in front of him, raising his razor to slash.  In a flash, Archangel had his _kodachi_ drawn and swept it against the razor hard enough to knock it from the ghost's hand.  The twin flashed immaterial, and the other flung the razor back that very moment, catching it in midair.  Archangel's eyes narrowed.  Not good at all….

He needed to get away from them, and fast.

Suddenly, a cascade of bullets zoomed through, shooting straight for the Twins.  The apparitions faded from the material... and gave Angel a perfect window of opportunity.

He made good use of it, running through the wraiths and down the hall.  Spotting a door, he ran through it and slammed it shut, pausing to catch his breath.  Then he remembered that his pursuers could travel through solid objects and immediately sprang away from the door.  Only then did he become aware of the woman in the room with him.

Persephone eyed the boy with a mix of curiosity and surprise.  He bore an uncanny resemblance to the firewall Seraph -- not physical, of course, but definitely there.  He kept his silver-black hair short, but long enough that it would be a definite pleasure to run her fingers through it.  She couldn't see the colour of his eyes due to the dark sunglasses he wore, but she guessed them to be brown -- he was Asian, after all, Japanese to judge by his facial structure.  Like Seraph, he wore a white jacket and pair of dark pants, the loose ones of martial artists.  Again like Seraph, he wore an undershirt of a dark colour, though his was green where Seraph's was black.

There was a final similarity: Persephone had been programmed in a manner that gave her the ability to read the code of others, what humans referred to as _auras_.  Both Seraph and this boy had auras that formed in the shape of wings.  However, Seraph was a firewall.  This child was human.

Of course, Seraph's _true _wings had long ago left him….

"Don't just stand there, boy," she said.  "Come here."  Slowly, he obeyed her.  She stood and walked around him.  "I wonder what one such as yourself is doing here, at my husband's home.  One might think you have come to assassinate him."  He stayed silent, expressionless.  "Or," the Italian program continued, stopping in front of him and just barely looking up; he wasn't that much taller than she, "they might think you are here to rescue that human my husband is currently holding captive.  Such loyalty you rebels have to each other."

Still he was silent.  "Judging by the speed with which you entered my room, I think that the Twins are chasing you."  She traced her finger down his chest; he was a handsome boy after all, and young enough that he'd be easy to play with.  "I can help you, you know.  I will lead you to your friend… but you must give me something in return."  She could see him swallow and hid her smile.  Altogether too easy.

"What?" he asked in a quiet tone.  Ah, a handsome baritone to match his looks as well as an interesting accent.  "I can see that you loved someone in your past, and that you lost her.  To what, I do not know.  However…," she reached up and took the sunglasses off, revealing dark brown eyes as emotionless as his face, "if you want me to help you, to protect you from my husband… I want you to kiss me."  _That _got a reaction out of him.  Shock flashed in his eyes, and she smiled in satisfaction.  "I want you to kiss me as if I was her, that woman you loved."

He appeared to weigh the options, then at last nodded.  He leaned in, gently cupping her face in his hands, and fulfilled her request.  It was quite satisfying, but there was a trace of sadness in the kiss as well, a sadness that she knew well.  She almost felt sorry for the young rebel.

At last he drew back, and Persephone smiled.  "Good.  Now--" she was interrupted by the door swinging open and the Merovingian striding in, Bastet at his heels and the Twins flanking him.

"Well... what 'ave we 'ere?"

"Hello, my love," Persephone said innocently.  Archangel held still.  He was very close to death, and he knew it.  "Who are you?" the Merovingian asked Archangel.

"I am nobody," the boy replied.

"Zen no one will look for you in the dungeon," the Merovingian replied.  The Twins moved out then, to secure the rebel; Archangel's hand dropped to his _kodachi_.  He'd not go down without a fight.

"I invited him here," Persephone said.  

"Zen why did he tell ze Twins different?"  

"He was following _my_ instructions," she shot back.  The Merovingian looked closely at his wife and the boy.  "Oh 'e was, was 'e?"  Archangel kept his face carefully expressionless.  "Can you not see the resemblance between him and Seraph?" she asked innocently.

"It is zere... but what does zat 'ave to do with anything?"

"He is much like Seraph was in his younger days… only he is not wingless."

_Wingless!  Does that mean that Seraph-san ­_is _ the man who started _Tenshi no Sento?

"I still fail to see ze import of zis."

"Then it is your loss, husband."

"We do not need another Seraph... one caused enough trouble as it is already."

"You did not ensure his loyalty, husband."

_Seraph-san worked for this man!?_

"And I suppose this one's loyalty is completely and totally ensured, without question?"

Persephone merely smiled. Bastet was hissing at Archangel, who remained outwardly stoic.  The Merovingian smirked.  "Take 'im to ze dungeon.  We will figure out what to do with 'im later...."  The Frenchman was interrupted when the barrel of a gun prodded against the back of his neck.  "I do not think so," Seraph calmly replied.

Green eyes turned to blue as Sekhmet took advantage of Bastet's startled reaction and regained control.  The Twins started to reach for their guns but halted as the Merovingian snapped, "Do not move, you imbeciles!"  Archangel reached down, removing his sunglasses from Persephone's hands and then replacing them upon his face.  "My apologies," he told her calmly.  She pouted, as if he had betrayed her.

"You will take us to the rebel in your dungeon."  Seraph ordered the Merovingian.  He grumbled something under his breath.  "Now," Sekhmet added, taking the remote from hid hand.  Archangel took it from her and destroyed it with one of his _shuriken_.

EDITED.


	14. Schwarz

14

A deep bass tone rang throughout the dungeons.  "_…he met the mayor of Keshel/ A mile outside the town/ the mayor he knew 'is features/ an' he said, 'Young man,' said he/ 'Your name is Willie Brennan/ You must come along with me'/ An' it's Brennan on the moor/ Brennan on the moor/ Bold, brave and undaunted…_"

Red was bored.  The pain in his ankle and shoulder had long ago settled into a dull throb.  He didn't know how long he'd been down here, but he was bored out of his skull and had nothing to do but sing.

Suddenly, the door to the dungeon opened, letting light spill in.  "Oi!  Douse th' light!" he cried, shutting his eyes in pain. "One would think you would better enjoy being rescued," mused an oriental voice calmly.

"I retract my earlier statement."

"Poitin-san!"  Red opened his eyes at the familiar voice.  "'ey, lad!" he said, grinning at the young Japanese man.  "'Ow touching," muttered the Merovingian.  "Eh, shaddup, Merv," Red grinned as Archangel untied him.  "Watch th' ankle, kid; it's broke."  Archangel nodded, finishing, then he helped the injured man upright.  It was amazing that as small a man as he could even support Red, but he could -- barely.  "Time to go?" Sekhmet asked.

Seraph nodded.  "Yes."  Red smirked at the Frenchman.  "Nice stayin' with ya, Merv, but the guest room needs a little work."  "Hush, Poitin-san," Archangel scolded.

The Merovingian chuckled a little.

Sekhmet scowled at him.  "What's so funny?"  

"I was just thinking  of a few ways I could 'ave my revenge on you all."

"Enjoy your fantasies," Red called as Archangel lead him away.  Sekhmet followed on soft feet.  Seraph locked the door, leaving the Merovingian pounding at the dungeon's only entrance.  

Red wasn't doing very well.  He'd lost a bit of blood, his entire body ached, and he could barely walk.  Archangel was trying to hold up his friend's weight, but it was quickly taking its toll on the younger man.

They reached the front door.  Seraph pulled out his key ring.  "Where should we drop you two off?"  "The warehouse," Archangel panted.  "He needs to get back to the ship fast."  "Very well."  He opened the door, which now instead lead to a long hallway, full of endless doors upon doors.  Sekhmet paused, sniffing the air a few times, then cocked one of her triangular ears.  "There's another human here," she said quietly.  "I smell blood."  Without waiting for orders, she bounded off into the _château_.

Seraph shook his head and gave Archangel a key.  "Use this on the fifteenth door to your left.  That will take you where you need to go."  The boy nodded and dragged his friend down the hallway, counting doors and stumbling in, where he wearily dialled the _Zodiac_.

"Operator."

Red took the phone from Angel.  "Mumsy, I'd like t' come 'ome now."  The phone on the table started to ring.  "You were saying?"  Salvo replied.  Archangel picked it up and handed the receiver to Red, who put it too his ear and vanished.  "Does Epona-san have any orders for me?"

"Come home."

"_Hai_," he said gratefully, hanging up the phone.  After a few moments, it started to ring again.  He hung up the cell phone, picked up the other phone, and awoke aboard the ship.

***

Marcus holstered his pistol making sure he had a spare clip this time.  It was night, and there was still no reply from Seraph.  It was time for him to see what was going on at the Merovingian's château... and if he could help get Sekhmet back.

***

Sekhmet heard Cain and Abel coming and ducked behind one of the shelves in the library, holding her breath.  "Damn kid," Cain was growling as he and Abel came out of the passageway leading to the dungeon.  "Well, at least we got... him behind bars now," Abel replied.  "I still owe him for that kick."  Cain rolled his eyes.  "Get over it already.  Rebels have done worse, and you know it."

"But not to me," Abel replied sulkily.  "I think that..."  He paused, sniffing the air a couple times.  Cain had also caught the scent.  "It's that cat," he said in surprise, "the one who was with Wingless."  Sekhmet's eyes widened, and she ducked further into the shadows.  Damn it, she'd forgotten about the werewolves' sense of smell!

Cain and Abel stared talking rapidly in a language Sekhmet couldn't understand.  However, it looked as if both of them had decided that the scent was old, as Cain shrugged and they both left.  Sekhmet slipped from her hiding spot and triggered the secret door, heading down to the dungeon and following the scent of blood, unaware that one of the werewolves had returned and was following her.

She soon found the cell she was looking for, which seemed to be spouting German curses.  At least, she thought it was German.  She hesitated for a moment, then unsheathed one of her claws and picked the lock on the door.  She opened the door, and the cursing stopped.  "Hello?" she called softly.

After a long moment, a blond with a black eye emerged from the shadows.  "What the hell do you want?" he demanded, his eyes narrowed.  "To help you," she replied softly.  "Why?" was his next question.

She didn't have time for this.  "Do you want to be the Frenchman's prisoner or not?" she asked irritably.  He opened his mouth to snarl something back, then his eyes widened as they focused on something behind her.  Before Sekhmet could turn, a pair of hands landed on her back and shoved her into the blond, who steadied her.  She turned her head to see a smirking Abel in the doorway.  "I knew I smelled a cat."

The blond snarled something in what sounded like German at Abel, who smirked and answered back in the same language.  Sekhmet could feel the young man tense up, then snap something else at Abel, who simply laughed and replied in English, "I hope he does.  Cain and I both owe him for shooting us."

He slammed the door shut and locked it again, pausing to peer at Sekhmet through the window.  "For your sake, kitty-cat, I wouldn't try to run again."  Sekhmet hissed, causing Abel to laugh again.  He was still laughing as he walked away, leaving both Sekhmet and her new cellmate to get to know each other.

Sekhmet could only hope Marcus would have the sense to stay away.

***

Unfortunately, at that very moment, Marcus was on his way.  First, however, he had a stop to make.  She wasn't too far away as Seraph travelled, and fortunately Marcus had a key for just the occasion, and after travelling through the backdoors, he had made his way to his objective.  "It's polite to knock, you know," a female voice called as he entered.

"I am sorry, Kyrie... but this is an emergency."

"What kind of emergency?"

"A friend of mine has been captured by the Merovingian."  He turned then, to look at his friend.

The program known as Valkyrie nodded.  "Then let us depart."  

"Do you have a method to reach the château?

"How urgent is the situation?"

"Urgent."

"We'll take my motorcycle.  The Merovingian's château is only twenty miles from here."  He nodded.  "Very well, let us waste no more time."  She took him outside and started up her motorbike, then took off for the château.

***

Sekhmet's new friend looked at her curiously.  "So...," he asked after a moment, "what's with the ears?"  "The Merovingian," she replied sadly.

"Oh."  He was silent for a moment, then said, "Are you a friend of Will's?"

"Who?"

"Will.   Poitin.  Red."

She shook her head, and he blinked.  "Then why did you come to save him?" he wanted to know.  Sekhmet smiled, the very tips of her fangs showing.  "Because he entered the Matrix to save Marcus from an Agent."

"Will did _what?_"  The blond looked stunned.  "_Mein__ Gott_.  Leave it to Will... the man is insane."  She gave him an odd look.  "You sound like an overprotective girlfriend."  An awkward silence followed, and Sekhmet flushed.  "Oh.  I didn't think he flew that way."

"He doesn't!" the blond blurted, then flushed, ducking his head.  "It's... a long story...."  Sekhmet kindly changed the subject.  "Why did he take Red in the first place?  I can't believe it was just as bait for me and Marcus."

"It wasn't," the German agreed.  "Six years ago, when Will was eighteen, he found himself in _le château_ and… er… made use of the opportunity…."  Sekhmet didn't get it, and the German sighed and expounded.  "Will started out as a thief."

"Oh…"  The implications of this suddenly hit her.  "He actually _robbed_ the _Merovingian_!?"  "_Ja_," the blond grinned.  "He got away with it, too."

"No wonder he hates him… so the Merovingian took you as bait?"  

"_Nein_."  The blond grinned again.  "Some members of the Q-Ball gang caught me when I was running from an Agent and decided to hand me over to Fuzzy-Wuzzy.  Abel hates me."

"Why?"

"No real reason.  I embarrassed him six years ago when we freed Will, and he apparently doesn't take well to humiliation."

Sekhmet considered this, and smiled again.  "Hey,_Kätzchen_," the blond said after a moment, "What's your name?"

"Sekhmet."

"Like the goddess?"

She nodded.  "Hence the ears and tail.  Apparently, the Merovingian likes being ironic.  What's your name."

"Most people call me Schwarz.  For my hair."  The joke made a slight whistling noise as it flew over Sekhmet's head.  He grinned at her confusion and said, "_Schwarz_ is German for 'black'."  Sekhmet got it that time and smiled a little.

**_Sugar:_**_ Evil Twins? Whatever do you mean? *innocent smile*_

**_Black Garnet:_**_ Arigatou for the compliments! Someone approves of our OC/OC pairing. Huzzah!_

EDITED.


	15. Sister

15

Valkyrie stopped the motorcycle.  "We're here," she said, looking up at the sprawling manor.  Marcus slid off, shuddering involuntarily.  "Marc, a favour?"

"Yes?"

"If we run into them… let me handle it?"

He stopped, and then nodded.  "Alright."  Valkyrie smiled.  "Thanks.  It's a family thing…"  He nodded again.  "Let us not delay any longer."  "Right," she agreed, leading him to the side of the manor.  "Hold on a moment," she whispered, before her body became insubstantial and slid through the wall.  She opened a window for him and helped him inside.

He stepped after her, unholstering his characteristic pistol.  She drew no weapon for the moment.  "Dungeons?"  

"She's probably in the lower sections... and they are considerably harder to enter."

Valkyrie gave him a look.  "Consider who you're talking to."  He chuckled lightly.  "I believe there to be a trapdoor under the rug."  "Which rug, lover-boy?" she asked.  "We're in Frenchie's house, remember?"

He thought for a moment.  "I cannot remember."

She gave him a look.  "Well, then we'll have to take the long way, won't we?"  "I do know the rug is one of the ones in this main hall, however."  He gestured to the floor.  She grinned and went incorporeal, sliding underneath the floor.  Marcus waited cautiously, gun still out.  She popped up a little ways away.  "Found it!"

Marcus nodded.  "Find the trigger?"

"Umm… help me out here."

"It should be a lever... or a statue... or something that looks moveable."

She dropped out of sight; after a few moments, she popped the lid.  "Thank you."  Marcus replied, bowing lightly as he rushed to the door.  "Nothin' to it," she replied as he ran through her before she turned solid again.  He halted.  "Does that hurt at all?"

"Nah.  Just feels _really _weird."

He gave her an odd look as he started to cautiously descend the stairs.  Valkyrie ignored the look as she followed, toying with the purple ribbon tied around her right arm.  They travelled quietly down the hallway, Marcus peaking into each window, to see if the cat girl was anywhere to be found.

Valkyrie kept an eye out for any of the Merovingian's loyal programs.

Finally, Marcus halted.  "Sekhmet?"

A sleepy male voice with a trace of a German accent muttered, "Whazzat?... oi, _Kätzchen_.  Wake up."  

"Sekhmet?  Are you alright?  Who is in there with you?"

"Relax, _Vampir_," the same voice answered.  "She's fine, but she's damn hard to wake up… _Kätzchen,_ your boyfriend's here." 

"Marcus?"

"It's me."

"Marcus!"  A startled yelp from her roommate, and Sekhmet was at the door, her fingers coming through the window to try and touch his face.  Marcus smiled.  "Stand back.  I'm going to try to shoot the lock off."

"Marcus!" Valkyrie called.  "It's _them_!"  She stared at the Twins.  They advanced, quickly becoming immaterial and sliding through the floor.  The female followed suit, smiling darkly at them.  "Hey, boys," she said, sounding smug.

"Our sister graces us with her presence?"  One smirked evilly.  "For a short time only.  So, have you two picked names yet, or is it still One and Two?" she replied sweetly.  "One and Two."  They began to circle her.  Marcus pulled his gun.  "Marcus," Valkyrie said.  "Hurry up."  She watched both One and Two carefully.

Marcus shot several times into the door, around the handle, and then gave it a swift kick.  It cracked slightly, but held true.  "It must be metal reinforced..."

"I'd help," came the German's voice, "but those damn werewolves took my gun."  He shot a few more rounds.  Suddenly, the twins lunged for their "sister", slashing deeply with their razors.

She dodged out of the way, slashing back with a razor of her own.  They both dodged back, Two then coming in and cutting wide again.  Marcus emptied his entire clip into the door, and then kicked once more.  Still no good.

Sekhmet whimpered as she waited; Valkyrie ducked under his blow and struck at his stomach.  A slash went across his stomach, which slowly started to heal...although not as quickly as other wounds did.  The female ghost smirked.  Her smirk was interrupted as another razor slashed at her back

Valkyrie let out a small cry, going solid.  The wound stayed with her.  The twins replied in kind, both solidifying and slashing out.  She phased automatically, but her first wound still did not heal.

The twins also phased, chasing her wherever she went.  The vampire kicked the door once more.  "It's not working!"

Valkyrie tried to take on her older brothers, but she was younger, smaller, and not as skilled at fighting.  One of the Twins… it was impossible to tell which… rushed forward and smashed his fist into her gut, while another elbowed her in the back of the head.  The female groaned and tried to lash back out at her brothers, but she was reeling from pain.  Another fist slammed out for her face, while her stomach was pounded once more.

She fell, trying to rise and fight despite her pain.  A boot struck her face.  Valkyrie groaned and lay still.  They turned their attention to Marcus after smiling in satisfaction.  "Marcus!"  Sekhmet cried in warning.  He raised his gun, knowing it would do him no good.

Schwarz drew Sekhmet away.  "Don't watch," he said softly.

He emptied the clip at the incorporeal Twins, even tried to fight back, but it was to no avail.  Fists struck him repeatedly, razor slashes covered his body, until, finally, the vampire collapsed.

Not once did he try to escape.

Schwarz watched all this with fury smouldering in his eyes.  "You two will get what's coming to you," he said softly, holding the sobbing catgirl.  They smirked coldly at the pair before dragging the would-be rescuers away... to somewhere.  "M-marcus…," Sekhmet whispered.  Schwarz stroked her hair, looking to the ceiling.  "Will…"

* * *

"Poni!" Red cried as he burst into the cockpit.  "Merv's got Schwarz!"  Poni's head snapped to him.  "What?  Bloody fuckin' hell.."  "I've gotta go back!" the Irishman added.  He was scared.  "Like hell ya do!"  Poni barked back.  "If I don't go, he'll kill 'er!" he snapped.

"'He'll kill 'er anyway... an' you too if you go."  She retorted.

"But if I go, I'll have a chance t' save 'er…"

"Not if ya go alone, ya won't."

"But…"

"Poitin-san, hush," Archangel said quietly.

"Pyre, ya think yer ready for a field test?"  The blond/red-head nodded.  "Definitely."  The two males looked at each other.  "Field test?"  

"Aye.  She's been trained.  Now we see if th' trainin's been put ta good use."

Red was lost, but he shrugged and gave up.  Archangel walked to his captain.  "Epona-san… do  you wish for me to come as well?"  "That depends...will ya be fine on yer own, Salvo?"  The masculine young woman nodded.  "Definitely."

Archangel bowed.  "Let's go, then."

In no time, the four rebels were jacked in and on their way to the Matrix...and, most likely, into a trap.

* * *

"It looks like our sleeping beauties awaken."  The Merovingian mused as his captives awoke.

Valkyrie sat up, rubbing the back of her head where she'd been hit, glaring at her brothers as she did so.  "I _was_ awake."  "I am still 'alf right."  He mused.  They were both strapped to operating tables.  Her eyes widened as she realised this, and she phased out of her bindings.  "You are free to go," the Merovingian waved a hand dismissively, "so long as you do not attempt to free anyone."

She frowned.  "And you're lettin' me go… why?"

"I 'ave no use for you."

"I feel so loved," she muttered, shooting the Twins a dark look.  

"What are you waiting for?  Leave.  Shoo!"

She obeyed, walking by Marcus and whispering, "Sorry."

"No need to be...you did all you could."

She passed by Two on her way out.  "This isn't over… brother."  "We feel sorry for you, then," he replied.  "Feel sorry for yourselves," she advised as she left.

"Well, now that ze riff-raff is gone, how do you feel, Marcus?"

The vampire said nothing.  "You will be more talkative after your reprogramming... assuming I let you keep your mouth, of course," the Merovingian added ferally.  "Prepare the chamber.  Let's see if we can add some submission to your protocols."  Silence followed this statement once more.


	16. Hell

16

The elevator opened to the group of rebels: Poni in her long black coat, white shirt, and baggy black pants, Pyre in her red coat, with yellow leather pants and a red leather jacket, tight leather tank top, and fingerless yellow gloves, Archangel in his white Chinese-style jacket, loose black pants and loose blue muscle shirt, and Red in his jeans, leather bomber jacket, and green shirt.

Poni adjusted her black sunglasses and stepped off into Hell, crew in tow.  "I hate this club," Red muttered.  "Everything started 'cause I came here when I was an idiot eighteen-year-old."  ""Then let's make it quick."  Pyre replied.  "And get through the coat check as fast as possible."  

"Uh, about th' coat check…."

"Yeah, Red?"  Poni asked.  

"It's a weapons check too."

"I'm perfectly aware of that."

"Oh, good."

"Anthin' else I should know about?"

"The patrons're all bondage-type people… highly symbolic now that I think 'bout it…."

"Everyone ready?"  Poni asked as the elevator beeped.

Red and Archangel nodded.  Pyre nodded.  "Like I was born to."  The elevator creaked open, exposing the coat room of Hell.

"Shit," Red observed as he realised they had a lot of guards this time around.  "Holy shit!  It's Wing... hey, wait a minute, that's not Wingless!" one of the goons called out.  Archangel blinked, looking down at himself.  "Why do I get the feeling I missed something?"

"Whatever.  Let's get this over with."  Poni dove forward and pulled two pistols from her coat, launching out a barrage for the goons.  Red drew a pair of MP5s, tucking them close to his sides and letting the bullets fly while Archangel went for a more direct approach, fighting them hand-to-hand.

Pyre rolled to the side, pulling a sawed off shotgun from her trench and letting loose a few barrages of shells.  The goons immediately leapt to the wall, only one going down under the maelstrom.

Archangel requested covering fire while he focused his chakra, then followed them onto the walls.  One of the goons leapt to the ceiling above Pyre and shot a few spurts from an Uzi.  The small hacker leapt away to a column, pushing off the side and leaping to the same level as the thug, using her momentum to propel a kick into his torso.

Archangel leapt across the room in a kick that gave him the appearance of flying before slamming into another goon's gut; Red dropped his empty guns and went for brute force.  Poni rushed to the wall, running up the side to avoid a goon's bullets and countering by pumping the thug's body full of lead.

Another goon faced Archangel angrily.  "What are you, Wingless' clone!?"  Archangel dispatched him.  "I do not have the slightest idea of what you're talking about," he informed the unconscious body as Red's fist sent another man crashing into and nearly through the wall.

Pyre slammed the butt of her gun into the thug's crotch before he could react, slamming the goon into the floor with a sickening double thwack, making him crawl on the floor with pain and vomit into his gas mask.

Archangel looked around.  "Who is this 'Wingless' they all kept referring to?"

Poni shrugged.  "Prob'ly a program."

"Who looks like me?"

"Don't worry 'bout it, kid," Red advised, his green eyes dark with anger.  "Shall we?"  Poni gestured with a gun, towards the exit of the coat check.  Red lead the way.

* * *

Schwarz was getting worried.  He'd never admit to fear, but he was definitely worried for the little cat-program sleeping beside him.  "Dammit… Will, stay away… please…"

"House call," the Merovingian gleefully announced from beyond the door.  "Wake ze kitten, I 'ave a visitor for her."  "Go to hell," Schwarz said in the same tone, putting a gentle hand on Sekhmet's shoulder.  

"I intend to," he replied.

"I didn't mean your orgy club."

"Just wake 'er up, unless you want me not to meet your boyfriend and 'is friends."

There was a twitch from the blond man, but he shook the catgirl gently.  "Hey, _Kätzchen_," he whispered.  "Mmmnh?"

"Frenchie's dropped in for a visit."  She sat up, pushing her tawny hair from her eyes.  "I would like you to meet someone, Sekhmet darling."  She growled at the 'darling' comment, but rose to her feet.  Schwarz did as well.  The door opened, revealing Marcus... but he didn't look like Marcus.  His eyes were completely devoid of all emotion -- all spirit, all feeling.

Her eyes widened.  "Marcus…. Marcus!"  She looked to the Merovingian. "What did you _do_ to him!?"  

"'E brought zis upon 'imself."

"Reprogrammed," Schwarz said quietly. "Personality either overwritten or erased…"  Marcus stood, still as stone, eyes not fixing on anything -- in fact, completely blank.  Sekhmet reached out a small hand for him, but Schwarz stopped her.  "He isn't the man you love, _Kätzchen_.  He's… someone else now."

"'E is no one now."

Schwarz glared at the Frenchman, feeling his inborn desire to kick French ass rising.  "You bastard."  "But of course.  Now, if you'll excuse me...," he closed the door, cutting off Marcus from the catgirl, "I 'ave guests to meet."

"Marcus!"  Sekhmet screamed, throwing herself at the door.  Schwarz growled.  "You're gonna get yours, Frenchie!"   There was no response.  The German growled and began trying to knock the door down.  "One more sing," the Merovingian suddenly said.  "What is this, _Jackie Chan Adventures_?" Schwarz demanded.  The door opened.  "Marcus, beat her to a pulp."  The soulless vampire grabbed the German by the throat and pulled him out of the chamber, locking the door again behind him.

"Schwarz!" Sekhmet cried, wondering why the Merovingian had called the German man 'her'.

Schwarz growled and managed to slip out of Marcus' tight grip.  Marcus replied by backhanding the German.  The other man reeled but stayed on his feet, dropping into a combative stance and wishing he had a gun… or at least a crossbow with a wooden arrow… or holy water… or a cross… or something.

Marcus strode forward, undeterred.

_Well, _Schwarz thought, _Germans may kick French ass… but we all know that Americans kick German ass.  Damn it._

Marcus's foot launched out in a roundhouse kick, straight for Schwarz's head.  The younger man blocked it, but was sent flying regardless.  Marcus was there almost before he hit, flashing out another roundhouse kick for his head.  Another block, another flight.  Marcus closed in on the German, letting out a long volley of hard, fast punches.  All of them connected, throwing him back and into the wall.  "Fucking… _ow_…."

Marcus kicked out in a thrusting side kick now, straight for the German's gut.  Schwarz's eyes widened in pain; on board ship, his unconscious body coughed blood to match the programmed blood in the Matrix.  He fell to the ground, curling up.

Marcus continued to beat him for a bit after this.  At some point, the German lost consciousness.  He was then thrown, bloody and broken, into the cell, no emotion ever coming to Marcus's face.

Sekhmet cried out in shock as she saw what he'd done to the human.  "Marcus…."  She looked at him pleadingly.  He made no response and shut the door.  Tears running down her face, she tried to clean Schwarz's wounds before any of them got infected.

* * *

Red paused as his cell phone went off.  "Bootleggers Anonymous… he _what!?_"  Poni shot him a quick look.  Rage filled the Irishman's face.  "Thanks for the update.  Bye."  He hung up and growled, suddenly becoming menacing.

"What's wrong?"

"Merv reprogrammed Marcus so he doesn't 'ave a personality, then made 'im beat th' livin' shit outta Schwarz."

Pyre blinked.  "They what?"  Red sighed.  "You remember Marcus?  Th' vampire?"  She nodded.  "The guy who saved my ass."

"Yeah, him.  He's a program."

"But the reprogramming thing... that's got to be one complex program.  How could someone just... up and rewrite that?"

"Who knows?  Merv is Merv.  One o' his minions prolly handled it."

Poni stepped out into the club.  "This just means we need t' get them out faster."  "Yeah… if he's killed 'er, I swear I'll --"  Archangel laid a soothing hand on Red's arm.  "It is not Marcus' fault.  Remember that."

"Keep yer aggression bottled... we hafta make our way through a sea of bodies."

"No kiddin'.  I _really_ hate this place…."

Archangel's sharp eyes caught the entrance of the Merovingian, and pointed it out to Poni.  Poni nodded.  "I see the frog well enough."  Red cracked his knuckles.  "Careful Red... if we kill the Frenchman, we lose our chance t' get our friends out."

"Hn.  Jus' be prepared t' trade me fer them."

"That's not happening," she replied, and then stepped out onto the dance floor, oblivious as she walked towards the Merovingian's balcony.  Archangel reversed his jacket so that the white was on the inside and slipped away.  Red hadn't noticed, so intent was he on the Frenchman.

Pyre was the least sure, hands on her shotgun just in case.  "Relax, lass," Red muttered.  "It's me he wants dead."  The music suddenly stopped, and the patrons parted, making a path to the Merovingian wordlessly, staring intently at the newcomers.  Archangel had by now blended with the crowd and vanished from sight; however, Red was enough of a distraction by weight of his sheer _size_.

"Back so soon, Monsieur Poitin?" the Merovingian sneered.  "Let Schwarz go," Red growled.  

"And why would I want to do zat?"

"'Cause if ya don't I'll crush yer head wi' my bare hands."

"It will be hard to do zat...," suddenly, everyone in the crowd pulled out a gun and pointed it at the group, "if you are all dead."  


	17. Tenshi no Sento

17

"If they die," a soft voice murmured as a blade suddenly pressed against his throat, "you die."

"Took ya bloody long enough," Poni called.

"But I wasn't caught," Archangel replied from where he'd snuck up on the Merovingian.  "So... we are at a stalemate, no?" the Merovingian smirked, still haughty.  "Not really," Archangel said.  "I am not afraid to die… are you?"  "But are you afraid of your friends dying?" he replied.  "Indeed... 'ow is it you know I am even ze real Merovingian?"

"Epona-san, call Salvo-san."

"I got it!"  Pyre replied, dialling on her phone already.  Red would have smirked under normal circumstances.  "Ain't technology wonderful?"  Pyre called to Archangel, "What do you want?"  

"Find out if he's the real Merovingian."

Pyre conversed for a few moments.  The Merovingian didn't lose his composure.  Neither did Archangel.  "Inconclusive! "  Pyre called.  "He has something scrambling the feed in here."  "Nice trick," the Japanese man murmured.  

"Is it my trick?"

"If you are not the real Merovingian, he must have a live audio or visual feed in here."

"Does he?"   The Merovingian (?) smirked.

"Jus' cut 'is throat, Jap!" Red yelled.  

"If you cut ze Merovingian's throat, ze _château_ will cease to be."

"An' if you ain't th' real one, it won't matter, will it!?"

"True," he replied calmly.  Red swore.  "Stalemate.  A fuckin' stalemate!"  "As I said," the Merovingian replied.

Archangel shrugged.  "So what do you propose, then?"

"Perhaps we could all put down our weapons and talk like civilized people?" the program offered snidely.

"Forcin' soulless vampires t' beat th' shit out o' yer prisoners ain't _civilised_!" Red yelled.  "Poitin-san!" Archangel snapped.  "_Urusai!_"  Red subsided, startled to see the younger man actually lose his temper.

Poni called out then, "He's the real one.  A fake'd never reveal a fake existed."  "Very perceptive of you," said a new voice.  Archangel uncharacteristically turned red at the sound of that voice.

"Great.  More Eurotrash."  Pyre mumbled.  "Pyre… Poni an' I are European," Red pointed out.  "But it takes something special to be Eurotrash."  Pyre replied.  Persephone's mocking gaze was directed at Red.  "So, the knight has come to save his damsel in distress… how romantic."

"So he's real then?"  Poni called.

Persephone's smile was malicious.  "Of course.  My husband would not be stupid enough to make a copy of himself… what if the copy decided to take over?"

"Persephone...," the Merovingian grumbled.

"Yes?" she asked sweetly.  Too sweetly.  

"Why do you do zese sings to me?"

"Why?" she asked, a dangerous tone coming to her voice.  "You dare ask why?"  She had approached the program and the boy holding him hostage and was toying with Archangel's hair absently; his face now resembled a stoplight, so red was he blushing.

"I believe I am entitled to an explanation."

"And I believe that you already _know_ why."

Red leaned down and whispered to Poni, "Looks like someone's been cheatin'."  Poni smirked.  "Angel, care to reinforce our point with th' Merovingian?"  The boy swallowed, trying to put Persephone from his mind, but pressed the blade harder against the Frenchman's neck.  "Sekhmet and Schwarz.  Now, if you please."

"If you insist," the Frenchman growled, pulling out the key to the door.

Schwarz had regained a semblance of consciousness, but he was in pain and weak as a kitten now.  Sekhmet took care of him as best she could, but she didn't know very much about human biology.

Suddenly, the door began to creak open, very slowly and quietly.  The blond man tried to get to his feet, but groaned and lay still.  Sekhmet eyed the door, fearing that Cain and Abel or the Twins were coming in.  "Do not fear, I am not an enemy." Seraph slid through the crack in the door.

She stared at him for a moment.  "Seraph!" she cried, throwing her arms around his waist and starting to sob into his jacket.  Schwarz managed to somehow drag himself upright, his eyes not leaving the Asian man.   "_Ein… Engel…?_"

"I fear I arrive too late..."  His eyes were on Schwarz.  The German shrugged.  "At least it was me an' not her."

"Can you walk?"

"My legs aren't broken."

He pushed Sekhmet away gently, and then stepped forward and held out a hand.  Schwarz hated accepting assistance, but he knew that here was not a good place for machismo.  He accepted the hand as Sekhmet stepped away from the two men.

"Now… we must leave as quickly and quietly as we can."  He supported Schwarz and started to walk into the hallway, quickly looking both ways to make sure it was empty.  Sekhmet followed silently, her ears flat against her skull and her tail simply hanging in dejection.  _Marcus…_

***

"Here we are... I trust you are 'appy now?" the Merovingian grumbled, hand on door handle.  "I won't be happy until I have Schwarz back," Red snarled.  "Well, 'ere she... _ah, merde,_" the Merovingian said forlornly.  And then he began to laugh.

Archangel, being shorter than the Frenchman as well as behind him, couldn't see.  6'6 Red, on the other hand, could.  "… fuck."  

"'Ow ironic it is... jus' when they are to be saved... your friends manage to escape."

"Frenchie, shut it," Red growled.  Archangel rolled his eyes and looked to his captain.  "Epona-san?"

"They're probably in the _château_... couldn't've gotten that far."

"I have a hunch about this… do you mind if I check it out?"

"Be my guest... so long as he'll be unmolested...."  Poni shot a look at the Merovingian.  Archangel allowed himself a wry smile.  "I trust you'll see to it that I remain unharmed, Epona-san."

"It'll be my sacred duty."  She did a fake bow.

"_Arigatou_, Epona-san."  Archangel surrendered the Merovingian to his captain's custody, not being stupid enough to let Red handle it, and set off in search of the missing prisoners.

***

Seraph looked around a little.  "I am not sure of the way out of here."  "Me either," Sekhmet replied nervously, keeping an eye out for the Twins, Cain, and/or Abel.  Schwarz just groaned, having fallen slightly beyond the point where coherent speech was possible.

Seraph turned back.  "Sekhmet... would you mind helping?"  She obediently came forward to help Seraph with the burden of the half-conscious German, sliding under one of Schwarz's arms so that most of his weight was resting on her.

"Going somewhere?"

Schwarz raised his head, fear rising into his blue eyes and rousing him with a flood of adrenaline.  "C-cain…," he whispered.  "You're forgetting someone," came the matching voice, from ahead of them.  "Oh, _Scheiße_," the German muttered, trying to take his own weight on himself and failing miserably, nearly dragging Sekhmet down to the floor.

They both pulled out their pistols.  "I'd ask you to come quietly," began Cain, "but what fun would that be?"  Abel grinned at Schwarz.  "It's gonna be fun taking you down… I owe you for that kick, you know."  The German smirked.  "You brought it on yourself, werewolf."  "Just like you brought this on yourself."  The werewolves lowered their guns at Schwarz.  Seraph's hands went to the back of his waistband.

"Don't move, firewall; this time, we call the shots."  Cain yelled.

"I do not think so," put in a new voice from above everyone else.

Both the werewolves twirled to see the source.  Unfortunately for them, they had turned _around_, not looked up.  Abel went down with a startled yelp as Archangel dropped from the ceiling and dropped him with a hard kick to the skull.

Cain whirled, firing a shot in transit for the rebel.  The human was already moving, however, in the air and suddenly too close for Cain to avoid the sharp kick to the jaw he delivered.  Sekhmet's eyes were wide.  "It's like he's flying…"

Schwarz nodded, wincing at the pull of sore muscles.  "That's the -- ow -- way he fights.  He calls it," a muffled groan, "_tenshi no sento_.  I have no idea what it means, though."

"It means, 'combat of the angels'," Seraph replied.  The other two looked at him curiously as Archangel finished with Cain.  "Archangel... why are you back in the Matrix?"  Seraph asked.  The Japanese lad shrugged.  "Poitin-san found out that the Merovingian had Schwarz-san.  Epona-san wouldn't let him go alone or trade himself for her, so we all came."

"And where are they all now?" Seraph stood, offering a shoulder to Schwarz again.  Sekhmet helped the blond transfer to the stronger program.  "Back at the cell… Epona-san is making sure we remain unharmed."

Then let us waste no time," Seraph replied, helping Schwarz down the hallway.  Archangel and Sekhmet brought up the rear, looking at the teenager curiously.  "What of Marcus?"  Seraph asked as they walked.  Sekhmet stopped, fighting more tears.  Archangel sighed.  "The Merovingian… reprogrammed him.  Then he beta-tested him on Schwarz-san."

"I see..."  Seraph considered this for a moment before continuing the walk.  Archangel gently pushed Sekhmet along, keeping an eye out for vengeful werewolves or sadistic ghosts.


	18. Sasha

18

After walking for a few moments in uncharacteristic serenity, the group made it to the main party -- who still held the Merovingian.

"_Sasha!_"

Schwarz was snatched away from Seraph and crushed against Red in a fierce but gentle hug.  A confused Sekhmet watched as the young blond wrapped his arms around the bigger man's waist and cried into his shirt.

Pyre blinked.  Archangel patted her shoulder.  "Do not worry about it.  I was surprised as well when I found out about those two."

"So, he's...?" Pyre began.

Archangel shook his head.  "Not at all.  Neither of them is."

"Then how...?"

"Quite simply, Schwarz-san is not male."

Pyre blinked, again.  A glimmer of a smile crossed Mr. Stoic's face, and he said, "Basically, we pod-born are separated by the machines in groups according to gender and ethnicity, so that our mental image of ourselves is indeed what we look like.  We're not sure why they do it, and we've yet to find out.  However, even a machine can make a mistake, and this time, Schwarz was the result.  She grew up in the Matrix believing she was male; when she was unplugged, she wasn't exactly thrilled to discover that she was in fact a girl."

Pyre blinked again.  Then she looked down.  Then she looked back at Archangel.  "Yikes."  He nodded.  "Schwarz wasn't able to handle it.  When she jacked in, her avatar was always male.  Her operator teased her endlessly, and rather cruelly, and her captain was no help.  According to her, Epona-san was the only one who treated her normally… until Poitin-san was unplugged."

Pyre looked at the pair.  "So I noticed."

"He stabilised her mentally, and her avatar started changing to a female form.  Sometimes it switched genders; she can do that on command now.  I was unplugged shortly before they got together."

Pyre watched them for a few more moments.  "I think it's a really good thing I'm not a _yaoi_ fan right now."  Archangel's eyebrow twitched.  "I hate it when they do that and she's still in the male avatar… their first kiss was like that too."

Pyre shrugged.  "If it makes them happy..."

Poni made an ahem noise.

Archangel abruptly shut up; Red ignored her.  "In case you're enjoyin' the ambiance that much, we'd be best to make an exit now," Poni ordered.  Red sent a glare her way, but scooped Schwarz into his strong arms.  "We need to get him out."  Archangel looked to Seraph and Sekhmet.  "These two as well."

"We are forgetting someone," Seraph replied.  Sekhmet looked up.  "What about Marcus?" she whispered.  Red opened his mouth to snap something, looked at her face, and closed it again.  "In his current state, he'd be hard t' bring along," Poni replied.

Sekhmet looked down.  "I know… but…."

Poni put a hand on her shoulder.  "We can always get him later, lass."

She nodded sadly, her ears again flat against her skull.  "Now, let's get the hell outta --"  Poni was interrupted when a figure grabbed Sekhmet from behind, pulling her close and putting a gun to her head.

The feline cried out, starting to struggle but stopping when she noticed the gun.  She looked up to see…

"M-m-marcus!?"

He stared emotionlessly at the rebels.   Archangel dropped into a combative stance, but didn't spring forward, instead staring into the vampire's eyes.  The vampire looked back, eyes blank.  Archangel suddenly whirled on the Merovingian.  "How can he function if you have taken his soul!?" he snarled.

"I did 'im a favour.  He chose to betray me.  Thus, he receives the consequences of 'is action."  

"That isn't what I asked!"

"'e seems to function well enough now, does he not?"

The angry Japanese teenager seemed to realise that he'd be getting no straight answer from the French One, and turned back to Marcus.  "Release her."  Marcus didn't respond, nor did Sekhmet move.  Her eyes, however, were closed, and it seemed to the humans that she was close to crying again.  "Marcus… please…"

"'e cannot 'ear you.  Zere is nothing to 'ear you."

She ignored him.  "Marcus…."

The vampire's expression was still empty.  Archangel looked at Poni pleadingly; he couldn't stand to watch Sekhmet pleading with the shell of the man she loved.  Poni was frozen, gun still to the Merovingian's head.  "Stalemate.  Again," Red growled.

Suddenly, Marcus dropped the gun and fell back, holding his head.  Quick as lightning, Archangel had snatched Sekhmet away from him and put her near Seraph, placing himself between vampire and cat-girl.

The vampire fell to his knees, holding his head, mouth open wide in a wordless scream.  Slowly, cautiously, the fighter approached him.  Was the real Marcus… fighting the reprogramming?  Marcus growled then, shaking his head.  Archangel skipped back a few paces, watching the other.

Marcus then rose and ran down the hall, staggering, but moving with surprising quickness.  Archangel rose and returned to them.  "Let's go," he said softly.  Seraph looked to Marcus' path.  "Yes."

They left the château sans Merovingian -- Archangel had neutralised him using a solid blow to the neck, leaving the program in 'standby' mode -- and arrived at the rebel's warehouse via a key that Archangel had palmed.

A quick call to Salvo ensured they'd be able to get back on the ship.

"Sasha first," Red said quietly, but the tone in his voice left no room for argument.  "Get her operator online."  

"Number?"

Red rattled it off, Poni dialled it, and a few moments later, the phone rang.  Red held it to Schwarz's ear.  The young man in his arms vanished, moments later, a young woman opened her eyes to the grinning brown face of the _Echo's_ operator, Cyclone.

Back at the warehouse, Poni hung up the phone and dialled Salvo's number.  Archangel wandered over to Seraph.  "Seraph-san, might I ask you something?"  What is it?" he asked, smiling.

"When I was younger, my _sensei_ told me that the style of martial arts we use, _tenshi no sento_, was developed by an angel from the Chinese lands, known as Seraph… I was wondering… if that angel… was you?"

"I am afraid I cannot answer that question," Seraph replied, still smiling, "as you already know the answer."

Slowly, an answering smile made its way onto Archangel's face.  "Angel, you're up."  Poni called.  Archangel bowed politely to Seraph and returned to his captain, hesitating before taking the phone.  Pyre followed, with Poni hanging it up.  "Sekhmet... I'm sorry."

"It isn't your fault," she replied from the corner where she was curled up in a miserable ball.  "It's mine, for getting caught."

"It's not yer fault either... I'll try t'find a way to help ya."

"Thank you," she whispered.

The phone ring.  The Scotswoman gave her a half smile, and then lifted the receiver, disappearing right after.  Sekhmet cast her eyes to the floor, curling her tail around her ankles.  _Is this… what the Oracle meant_?  Seraph walked over to her.  "Do not worry.  I do not believe that matters are over quite yet."

She looked up at the one-time angel, a glimmer of hope starting to show in her blue eyes.

"I have a feeling that Marcus will soon make his decision."

Sekhmet nodded as she rose to her feet.  "Where to now, Seraph?"

"We go back to the Oracle."

"All right…"  She looked out the window and frowned.  "Shouldn't we wait until nightfall, though?"  "Why?"  He looked slightly confused.  Sekhmet blinked, then pointed out her ears and tail silently.  Seraph pulled out a key.  "That will not matter with the route we take."  Curious blue eyes followed his movements as the kittenish program strode to stand beside him.

He put the key into the door and turned it.  Opening it revealed a long hallway, lined with green doors.  Her eyes widened.  "What is that place?"  

"It leads to back doors."

"Oh!  For programmer access?"

He nodded.  She looked around, the turned to him again.  "But… what if a programmer shows up?"  "One won't."  Seraph replied, leading her into the backdoor network.  She followed him trustingly -- right now, he was the only one she trusted.

***

It had been a day or so since the rebels had taken him hostage.  The Merovingian had gone on with business as usual -- 'business' currently being the young Exile standing proudly before him.  He was as beautiful as Lucifer, with long, dark blue hair pulled back in a ponytail, pale, almost albino skin, and eyes the colour of blood.  Feathery blue wings sprouted from his back, invisible and intangible to the coppertops; he wore a tight red muscle shirt to match his eyes, black jeans, and a black trench coat.

"Rafael.  Please, sit."  The Merovingian gestured to the chairs in front of him.

The angel program nodded and sat, calmly facing the Frenchman.  "What brings you to my lovely abode?"  

"What else?" he asked.  "The opportunity to escape deletion."

"You know zat zis mean you will become one of my... employees?"

"I do.  And I have no problem with that."

"Very well.  We will, of course, 'ave to alter your programming."

"How so?  And if it includes removing my wings, then forget it."

"Not at all.  Just a little zomething to prevent ze agents from finding your code."

"Works for me… no personality altering?  No sub-programming?"

"Do I have reason to install such programming?"  The Frenchman raised an eyebrow.

"None whatsoever," the fallen angel replied, leaning back easily in his chair.  

"Zen we have a deal?" 

"Yes.  One thing, though: I don't take well to betrayal."

"If you do not betray me, zere will be no need to betray you."

"Works for me."

The Merovingian held out his hand.  Rafe took it easily, offering a firm but submissive handshake.  "Zen let us get to business, shall we?"  The angel nodded.  The Merovingian stood and opened a door, after using a key.  Rafael obediently followed the Frenchman.


	19. Rafael

19

Seraph opened the door, suddenly the duet was in the Oracle's apartment.

Sekhmet shyly entered in, unused to such travel.  "No need to be shy, Sekhmet," called the Oracle.  A side of the cat's mouth quirked upright.  She couldn't believe that she'd actually missed that.  "Come in, I was just about to make cookies."

Sekhmet brightened somewhat and beelined for the kitchen.  The Oracle had all the ingredients out.  "You're just in time to help me with a batch."  

"You'll teach me how to cook!?"  Sekhmet had gratefully grabbed onto the distraction.  "Cookies, if nothing else," she smiled.  Sekhmet smiled back, though her pain was still evident in her eyes.

"Now, you just mix up all the ingredients.  Make sure to give it extra love."

Sekhmet made it through the lesson with some minor mishaps, but she took the Oracle seriously and tried to will her love for Marcus into the cookies.  "Now we just let them bake," the Oracle said at length.

Sekhmet nodded, covered from head to toe in flour.  The Oracle lit up a cigarette.  "Candy?"  She shook her head in a polite refusal and sneezed as some of the flour tickled her nose.  "We should get you cleaned off....but not with water."  The African-American woman handed Sekhmet some paper towels.

She giggled sheepishly and started trying to clean herself off.  "Why not with water?"

"Water and flour make paste," she replied.  "Which is especially bad for the stuff in your hair."

"Oh."  Sekhmet thought about this for a moment.  "Makes sense…."  The Oracle smiled at her.  Sekhmet grinned back.  "Now what?"  

"Now... we clean up."  She gestured to the bowls and spoons used to make the batter.  Sekhmet managed to help out without any mishaps this go-round, also pausing every now and then to clean up the flour still falling from her hair.

"There... now we just have to wait."  The Oracle lit up another cigarette.  "For them to bake?"  

"Well, that's one of the things we have to wait for, anyway."  She sat and puffed the cancer stick.  Sekhmet looked at her.  "What else are we waiting for?"

"You know the answer to that better than any of us."

"Marcus," Sekhmet answered herself softly, after a moment's hesitation.  She nodded.  "He's fighting... as soft spoken as he is, it's his nature to fight."  "I'd noticed," Sekhmet replied dryly.  

"He's a strong one."

"Yes… he's fighting the Merovingian's reprogramming, isn't he?"

"With every fibre of his being."

"Is there any way I can help him?"

She shook her head.  "It's a decision he'll have to make on his own... but either way, he won't be the same as when you knew him."

Sekhmet nodded slowly.  "So it's… better for him if… I stay here?"

"It isn't that, Sekhmet."  The Oracle breathed out a large cloud of smoke.  "The Merovingian has put Marcus somewhere no one can reach him." 

"Where?"

"It's just a train ride away."

***

Rafe walked into Le Vrai for the second time, having been summoned by the Frenchman.  The coppertops couldn't see his dark blue wings, but he kept them folded close to his back regardless.  "You rang?"

"Please, sit down."  The Merovingian motion in front of him.  Rafe did so, flicking his blue bangs out of his eyes at the same time.  "I 'ave my first mission for you," the Frenchman said, taking a sip of wine.  

"What is it?"  

"Zere is an exile who 'as been escaping me routinely... I want you to go capture 'er"

"Constant escapes?  What is she, a cat?"

He raised an eyebrow.  "Yes."  Rafe blinked a few times.  "You're not kidding?"  

"I am not."

Rafe looked at his cloth trench coat.  "Maybe I should wear leather instead of cloth," he mused.  "Harder to scratch through it."

"Do what you feel is necessary."

"All right.  Sounds interesting.  Do you know where she is?"

"She is in ze Oracle's building, zomewhere."

"The Oracle… okay.  I'll get it done."  The Merovingian took another sip of wine.  "Am I running under any sort of a time limit?" Rafe asked as he made to rise.  He shook his head.  "Take as long as you want."  

"All right.  I'll be back with her."

"I am sure you will," the Frenchman replied.

***

Night was the time Rafe preferred above all others.  Li had liked the night, too, which was probably why Rafe had been assigned to him… _no, don't think about it_.  _You've got work to do_.

Rafael looked up at the apartment building, absently flexing his wings.  Architect, but he wanted to fly again…  His red eyes fell momentarily on his crippled right wing and a strange sigh issued from his mouth.  Then with a flap of his wings, he'd given himself enough lift to make it to the fourth story fire escape, right outside the window where the kittified program slept.

Breaking in was a simple enough task, as was putting the female into standby mode.  _This is a helluva lot easier than I thought it'd be_, he reflected as he gently picked her up.  "Damn, but aren't you cute?" he murmured to the "sleeping" girl.  Rafe turned to go…

"You assume she is not guarded," came a thickly accented oriental voice.  Seraph met the other angel as he turned.  Rafe stared at him, his mind racing and registering the other man's identity.  "Oh my God… Seraph…."

"Put the girl down."

"No."

"That was not a request."

"I know."

"Put her down."

"Make me."

"As you wish."  Seraph bowed to Rafe.  The younger angel frowned, suddenly feeling like he'd been manipulated.  Seraph dropped into a fighting stance.  _Yup.__  He's challenging me… damn it!_  Carefully, Rafe laid the cat-girl down and fell into a battle stance of his own.  Seraph's fist suddenly flew out of nowhere, headed straight for Rafe's face.

His arm came up, deflecting the blow, and he attempted to deliver a felling blow into the other man's gut.  Seraph side stepped this, stepping in and launching a three-punch combo at Rafe's chest.  The fallen angel bent backwards, the edges of his wings brushing the ground as the punches flew over him, then they flapped and propelled him up and over Seraph's head; as he passed over, he tried to plant his ankle in the back of Seraph's head.

Seraph stumbled forward, but re-entered his stance as he rolled up with the blow, following up with a powerful sidekick as he leapt back into the fray.  Rafael winced as Seraph's foot impacted with his side, throwing him to the floor, his wings folding around him protectively.  He had to leave quickly, with the girl.

"I suggest you leave now. "  Seraph stated, standing between Rafe and Sekhmet.

Rafe snorted.  "I'm not leaving without her."

"I beg to differ."

The fallen angel's blood red eyes centred on Seraph, who stepped forward.  The younger man stayed where he was, sideways to the wingless angel, just watching him carefully.  Seraph stepped forward once more and lashed out another side kick.  Rafe ducked under it, then one of his wings snapped out, catching Seraph in the gut and propelling him a good distance away from his opponent.  Seraph hit the wall with a thud, his glasses knocked from his face.

Rafe ran for the cat girl and the exit, snatching her up and leaping out of the window, using his wings to slow his fall and land lightly enough that he wouldn't jar his crippled wing.  He paused, looking up at the room he'd just left.

Seraph ran out a moment later... but he knew he would never reach them before they hit a backdoor.  He looked out the window, at the escaping angel... and hoped that the Oracle was right.

***

Rafael walked into the _château_, the girl in his arms.  The wing he'd used to slap Seraph away now ached, and he groaned as he realised that he'd stupidly used his crippled wing to do it.  "Not her again," Cain lamented loudly as he saw Rafael's captive.  Rafe smirked.  "Sounds like someone's been scratched by the kitty," he taunted.

He grumbled and reached for his gun, but Abel held his "brother" back.  "Oh, do let him try," Rafe answered.  "The feathers are bullet-proof."  "Enough!"  The Merovingian called as he walked down the hallway.  "You two, lock her up!"  Rafe allowed them to take her, his right hand coming up to massage the cramp from his wing.

"You 'ave done well, my servant.  So, you will be rewarded 'owever you wish."  The frenchman replied.  "Great.  I'll think on that while I recover."  The Merovingian smiled wickedly.  "And zis time... zere will be no escape for ze kitten."


	20. Reassimilation

20

Consciousness struck like a sledge hammer... and suddenly, Marcus pulled himself off the concrete floor, shaking his head as he stood.  A massive ache struck him in the temple at that very moment, a pain shooting through his entire brain.

"Hello, Marcus," a weirdly familiar voice greeted him.  Marcus turned, head swimming.  "Who... who's there?"

"You," it replied.  And it was… sort of.  It was like looking into a mirror… but the person who looked like him also seemed… w_arped_, somehow….

Marcus stepped back.  "How is this possible?  Where...?"

The other him pointed to black letters on the white tiled wall, letters that read 'Mobil Ave'.  "Then the Merovingian put me here....  Why can I now think as normal?"  His doppelganger grinned mirthlessly.  "To make sure I have full control over our body.  He has learned from the mistake he made with your little girlfriend."

Marcus narrowed his eyes.  "So, he meant for you to dominate me here... and we split."

"Exactly."

"What happens now?"

"What do you think, Marcus?"

"I take it we do not discuss this as civilized programs."

Marcus' statement was greeted by his own derisive smirk -- but this expression too was warped, corrupted.  Marcus dropped into a fighting stance.  The other him fell into the exact same stance.

Marcus then stepped back, reaching into his waistband and pulling out his pistol.  "That won't work," his other self said tauntingly.  Marcus completed his motion, tossing the gun away.  "I know."  The doppelganger casually tossed his own weapon to the side before again falling into a combative position.

Marcus then rushed forward, using his characteristic jumping kick on his "twin."  The other him blocked it easily, grabbing his ankle and hurling him into the wall.  Marcus struck the wall hard, causing ceramic to topple away.  He then rose and threw off his trench coat, dropping back into an attack stance.  Now his other side went on the offensive, coming at him quickly, suddenly dropping and sliding under Marcus, using the handstand kick Marcus himself had used on Bastet in the subway fight.

Marcus took the hit, smashing into the wall once more.  His copy smirked as he rose to his feet.  "All too easy… surely you're better than this?"  Marcus hit the ground on his feet, and dropped back into a stance.  "I'm only getting warmed up."  "Now where have I heard that before?" the other mused.  "Oh, yes, your kitty-girl's other half… before she lost, and to a human, no less."

"Bastet did not lose to a human."  Marcus replied.

"Are you sure about that?"

"She lost to her stronger half."  Marcus suddenly snapped out a roundhouse kick straight for his other self's head.  The doppelganger barely blocked.  "Sekhmet?  Stronger?  Don't make me laugh," he sneered.  "Then allow me to prove my point."  The Vampire twirled and snapped out a maelstrom of punches towards the dark one, followed by him dropping back on his hands and slamming his feet into the other vampire's chest.

His otherself was blown back, slamming into the wall on the opposite side of the train tracks.  Marcus fell into a lower stance and held his hand out, flipping it over and making a "come on"  motion with his fingers.  The other Marcus snarled and attacked again with a flurry of kicks and punches, trying to drive the original program back.

Marcus blocked all of the attacks easily and calmly, and then responded by slamming both of his hands open-palmed into the chest of his double.  Again he was blown back, but this time he wasn't as quick in rising.  Marcus stayed still and calm, not advancing.

The other vampire charged again, this time using Marcus' jump-kick.  Marcus sidestepped and grabbed the leg of the copy, lifted him into the air, and slammed him down behind him.  He rolled to his feet, launching another attack.  Marcus blocked it again, and then slammed another kick into the double's chest.

He was failing.  This couldn't be, he'd been written to defeat Marcus, to replace Marcus, to be better than Marcus…. And yet he was losing.

"You may be a copy of me."  Marcus pulled his shirt up and tossed it off, revealing the scars from where the twins and Bastet had slashed him.  "You may even be superior to me, but i will win."

"You can't!" the other program cried desperately.

"I can.  Because I have something to fight for."

"What the hell could give you such a delusion?"

"Sekhmet."

His copy blinked, then started to laugh.  "That weak feline!?"

"You laugh.  But is that blood trickling from your mouth?"

His eyes narrowed, and then he charged his "sire" once more.  Marcus met the charge with a double roundhouse kick.  His clone dodged one, but the other sent him crashing to the floor.

Marcus stood firm.  "Please, stop this."

"There can only be one!"

"I agree, 'Duncan' "  Marcus smirked.

"Then why do you want to stop!?"

"We can rejoin."

There was silence for a moment.  "Not the same as either was before...but i believe it would be better than killing you."  Another long silence.  "If either of us kills the other, then we lose vital programming.  Neither of us is a whole program."

"You have a point," he mused.

"But...how?"

"It's your plan."

"Physical contact does not seem too..."  He halted.  "I believe I know."

"What, then?" the copy asked.

Marcus opened his mouth and pointed to his fangs.

"… you have _got_ to be kidding."

"I devour your code, and the two integrate themselves."

"We can't _do_ that, though.  The Merovingian made sure of that."

"It won't be feeding.  It will be absorbing."

"… I suppose it's worth a shot."

"Agreed."

Slowly, cautiously, the copy approached Marcus.  Marcus spent no pomp in biting.  He merely slammed his fangs into the copy's neck, and concentrated on reintegrating the severed code.

Suddenly, there was a brilliant flash of light as both vampires began to glow.  The light filled the subway station, and then, suddenly, the two merged.

***

Valkyrie was worried, and feeling guilty that she'd left her friend to the Merovingian's tender mercies.  She was also upset about losing to her brothers, though that at least was not uncommon.  

Why had he just let her go like that?  It was unlike the Merovingian to allow one of his escapees to walk away after recapture….

"Gah!" she muttered, toppling herself onto the couch.  "I don't _need_ this!"

Suddenly, there was a knock at her door.  She jumped.  "What the… who the hell?"  She got up and opened the door, ready to phase in case of a trap.

Seraph was waiting at the door.  "Hello, Valkyrie."

"You."  She didn't trust him, but she knew enough that he wouldn't harm her.  Signing, she let him in.  "What do you want?"

"I am told you are the only one who can help Marcus."

She blinked.  "Marcus?  What's wrong with him; where is he!?"

"He is in the train station...on Mobil Avenue."

"What!?  Limbo?  How the _hell_ am I supposed to get there?  I may be a ghost, but even One and Two have to go through the Trainman to get there!"

"I was not told how.  I was merely told you were the only one who could."

Valkyrie began grumbling, even as a plan formulated in her mind.  "I don't suppose you could get me to a subway?" she asked at length.  "That I can do."  He motioned for her to step outside her house.  She did so, shutting the door behind her.  She suspected it may be a key-hop, and she wasn't gonna leave her door hanging open for curious brats to wander within.  He did indeed open the way to the back door system.  "We will be there in no time."

"Lead the way, Wingless."

***

Rafe unwittingly committed a grave error when, within earshot of the Twins, he mused, "I wonder who that ghost babe 20 miles down the mountain is…"

They both immediately looked to him.  "What?"  He blinked.  "A ghost program lives down the mountain some ways…," he whistled appreciatively.  "And damn, is she hot."

"You speak of our sister."  The angel paled as that registered.  The two ghosts had somehow surrounded him.  "I didn't mean any harm by it…," he said weakly.  "Such a pity."  Twin One said.  "Because we mean harm right now."  Two finished.

"… shit…."

***

Seraph led her through the identical hallways for several minutes, until he opened the way out of a service entrance on the subway.  Valkyrie looked around her.  "Which subway will he be on?"

"The Trainman?  I am not sure."

"Hmmm… I guess I'll have to scare several coppertops, then."

Seraph looked concerned.  "What if it attracts Agent attention?"

"I'll have to risk it.  Besides, I'm a ghost; they can't hurt me."

Seraph bowed.  "I cannot accompany you any longer.  I wish you the best of luck."  A little awkwardly, she bowed back.  A train came through, and she phased herself onboard.  Sheer, dumb luck had her reapparating inside the subway restroom.  Composing herself, the near-albino slid on the mirrored sunglasses that hid her eyes and stepped out, looking for the Trainman.  She spotted him, and a feral grin frighteningly similar to that of her brothers' crossed her face.

***

There was a slow rumbling that increased in volume and tempo as the train pulled into Mobil Ave.  A shadowy form moved from behind one of the pillars, watching it in cold silences.  There, in the driver's seat, was the Trainman… but behind him, holding a gun to his head, was a certain ghost named Valkyrie.

"Valkyrie," came the voice from behind the pillar.  She looked out the window curiously.

From behind the pillar stepped a man with long hair the colour of metal.  He wore a long white trench coat that had black sleeves and a black border around the edge.  He wore baggy black pants that hung volumous and loose, a rust coloured shirt on his chest.  The person smiled, fiery green eyes shining bright, his fangs visible.  "Like the new me?"

Her eyebrows arched.  "Whoa, someone got a nice makeover… get on board, I don't have all day."  He walked onto the train--although it alsmot seemed like he floated.  "Well, at least one cat-girl is gonna be happy to see you," she grinned as the subway started moving again.

Marcus nodded.  "I'll be glad to see her, too."

_Updates will be coming at a rate of two or three a day, as Soldier Zero and myself have completed the story!   Enjoy!_

**_Sci-Freak GrodySpork:_**_  Interesting name there.  I know Ra is the sun god.  However, I have a book called _The Catswold Portal_, and it mentions the trinity of the cat goddesses -- Bast the gentle, Sekhmet the warrior, and Ra the sun.  Do you like the upgraded Marcus?_

**_Sapphire:_**_ Well, here, this should keep you busy until I update _Legacy_ again._

**_Garnet:_**_ You do realise all the rebels are going to die anyway, right?  Maybe not during the course of this story, but this takes place a decade or so before the end of the Fourth Cycle of the Matrix... and Marcus is back to his old self, if not physically, anyway._

**_Winter:_**_ I still fail to see how Red's getting his ass kicked by the Twins gives him cool points.  They give him human points, certainly....  And Soldier Zero is wondering if his getting Merv so well is a good thing.  ^_^  *patpats Zero*  Yes, Seraph's fight with Gary Stu - I mean Archangel - was fun.  And I was just reminding everyone that she IS a cat-girl, after all.  Of course she'll have some catlike reactions.  As for Gary - I mean Archangel - the wall-walking thing was part of the reason he was freed -- potential to be a One.  However, he is not the One for the Fourth Cycle, so... *shrug*  _

_I'm obsessed with Seraph.  Of course there's going to be more Seraph!  _

_Schwarz...  well, you know by now.  Poor baby.  Angst-city.  _

_Hate to break it to ya, babe, but Valkyrie is not going to be badass in this story.  However, Val is going to turn up at some point during Legacy, and she'll be badass then.  ^_^  I feel bad for her, considering her brothers....._

_Winter, Winter, Winter... is _anything_ I do coincidental?  Ever?_

_Of course it blends with Legacy.  We started writing it five days after Revolutions came out._


	21. Family

21

Valkyrie opened her door with a soft smile.  She wished she could have seen the look on his kitty's face when he got in, but she trusted Seraph about as far as she could throw him and didn't trust the Oracle at all, so she had elected to get some needed "sleep", as guilt had made her last attempts rather disturbing.

There was another knock on her door.

"Go away and come back tomorrow!" she yelled.  "We can't do that, sister."  Came two voices from right next to her.  She shrieked and whirled, backing away from the Twins.  "What the hell do you want!?"

"You live so close... you never pay us any visits."

"There's a reason for that," she grumbled, feeling her back press against a wall as she glared up at her brothers defiantly.  They knocked a vase off a shelf.  "Such a nice place you have here."

"I try.  Now what do you want?"

"We want to throw you a late housewarming party."

"Stop bullshitting me.  I'm not that naïve little girl you two knew."

"You saved the Vampire."

How had they…?  She crossed her arms over her chest.  "Marcus is my friend.  Of course I did."

"The Merovingian is upset about this.  You are to be punished."

"I don't work for him anymore," she snapped, but her eyes were widening in definite fear.

"But you worked against him."

"I was helping out a friend.  But _you_ two wouldn't know a damn thing about that, would you?"

Her bookcase was thrown down onto the floor.  Two was suddenly holding a gas can.  Her eyes widened as she inferred their intentions.  "NO!" she screamed, lunging for her beloved books.  One backhanded her.  Two started to pour the gas over the bookshelf.  She ignored One's hit and tried again, this time trying to get the gas away from Two.

Two pulled back on the can.  One flicked out his razor and slashed Val across the back of her knee.  She went down, but phased and healed.  "Don't!  _Please!_"  Two smiled sadistically and pulled out a match.  A voice behind him, however, interrupted the ghost, as well as the click of a gun being cocked.  "Don't."  Marcus.

She turned, disbelieving.  "Marc…."

The Twin smirked.  "What are you going to do, Vampire?  Kill us?"  He went incorporeal.  Marcus's hand smashed into the back of the Twin's head.  It made contact.

Valkyrie's eyes widened.  "How…"

The twin lurched across the house and through the wall.  The other's eyes went wide…in fear.  Something the program hadn't know before.  "Get.  Before I lose my temper."  Marcus growled.  The Twin phased and flew away as fast as he could.

Valkyrie stayed where she was, disbelieving.  "You alright?"  Marcus asked, holstering his gun.  "Yeah," she answered shakily.  "Sekhmet was captured."  Marcus replied.  "I came to get her back."

"How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Hurt Two."

Marcus shrugged and looked at his hands.  "Must be a side effect of the fusion."  Valkyrie picked up one of her ruined books sadly.  "I can't stay here anymore…."

"The Oracle could give you a place to stay."

"Marcus… you know how I feel about her."

"Do you have a choice?"  He replied.

"… what happened to them, Marcus?  What changed?"  The incident was hitting her hard.  "They know how much I love books… and I'm their _sister_!"

"The Merovingian happened."

"But… even when we were with the Merovingian, they never did anything like… like that!"

"That's what changed.  You aren't with the Merovingian anymore."

"I…"

Marcus shook his head.  "I'm sorry Val."

She lowered her head sadly.  "Is that… why he let me go?"

Marcus was silent.

"I… I need some time, Marcus."

"I understand.  I'll be back after I've saved Sekhmet."

She nodded.  She wouldn't tell him that she probably wouldn't be there.  Marcus hugged the ghost, and then set out towards the Merovingian's cathedral--hopefully, for the last time.  Val  sorted through the books, and sighed in relief.  Her favourite one was untouched.  She took it, her guitar the Twins had missed, surprisingly enough, and a picture of her and her brothers a long time ago, then left her home.  She needed to think.

***

Sekhmet stirred and woke slowly.  "Wha…?"  Her eyes took in her surroundings.  She was on a bed with red sheets.... in the _Château_.  "Oh… shit…."  She sat up, bringing her hand to her aching head.  She'd been drugged, apparently, and brought here in her sleep.  "Zo, you finally awaken."

She gulped and looked towards the Merovingian.  He was sitting in a chair nearby, not looking too happy.  She cringed away from him.  "You will be 'appy to know that your little boyfriend is on 'is way 'ere right now."

She gave him a mistrustful look.  "I 'ave a welcoming committee assembled for 'im right now," he added bitterly.  Something wasn't right.  She backed further away from the Frenchman, her eyes never leaving  him.

"He won."

"Wh-what?"

"Your pretentious vampire lover.  He won the battle for 'imself."

She smiled slowly.  "So that's what she meant…"

"Don't celebrate just yet.  'e still 'as to rescue you," the Frenchman replied.

"I believe in him."

"Then your belief is ill founded," the Merovingian spat as he rose from his chair and walked towards the door.

"I doubt it."

The Merovingian shot her a dark look and opened the door, slamming it behind him.  Sekhmet crawled off the bed, staring at it in distaste.  Why the hell had she even been on it?  Then, the twins phased through the door, looking unhappy.  Her eyes widened as she froze.

_Oh, Source…  I'm alone… with them….._  She whimpered as she backed away from them.  They walked towards her, both getting their razors out.  "No… please…."  They grinned.  "Don't you want to play with us?"

The frightened cat shook her head as she realised she'd walked into a corner.  They advanced, evil smiles filling their face.  There was a sudden change in her stance, a sudden confidence as her suddenly green eyes met theirs.  

"Bastet."

"Hello, boys," she said, smiling a little.

"Will you be willing to play with us?"

"That would depend."

"On?"

"Sekhmet.  It's amusing that you scare her so much -- you two frighten her more than anything else."

"We know."

"However, it is very irritating to have to deal with her whimpering about the pair of you.  It'd be nice if you could lay off her a bit."

"What's the fun in that?"

"I didn't say stop scaring her… just lay off the absolute terror thing.  Besides," she had approached One and was looking up at him seductively, "there are other fun things to do around here, you know…."

He grinned. "Alright, we will lesson our efforts."

"Thanks, I appreciate it…. She may not, but that doesn't matter."

The twins then phased out, and drifted out of the room, casting one last look at Bastet.  She pouted.  "They didn't stay to play…."

***

Marcus stood outside the front door of the _Château_.  He looked at the door for a second, touched it, and simply walked through it... and was met by a large number of thugs with guns on the other side.

As one, they opened fire.  The bullets passed through him and struck the door behind him.  They stopped firing as they ran out of bullets.   From second floor, Rafe watched.  "A ghost…?" he mused softly, wincing as he felt his black eye.  Those twins were damn brutal…

Marcus pulled out his pistol then and aimed at the enforcers.  "Are you done?"  They dropped their guns and came at him.  He disappeared.  Rafe's eyebrows rose.  "A handy trick… I'm going to need to do some serious planning if I am to fight him as well…," another wince.  "Damn those Twins… fighting him would've been hard enough on its own."

Marcus was suddenly behind the group of thugs.  "Looking for me?"  They whirled, startled; one who could apparently take odd things in stride ran at him again.  Marcus met this attacker with a boot to the head.  He was thrown down and across the hallway, slamming into a statue and laying still.

Marcus then looked to the rest of the crew.

They attacked him at once, under the faulty logic of 'if we all go at once, he can't hurt us!'  Marcus met them headlong, sliding into a lead one's legs and then slamming a roundhouse into his head as the vampire rose.  The fight was brutal and decidedly one-sided.  Rafael winced.  "I think I should go get healed up before I face him," he mused as the last man went down.  "I'll need all my strength for this."

Marcus threw the last goon against the wall, placing his still drawn pistol against his head.  "Where?"

"Wh-where what!?"

He pulled the gun away and shot into the wall.  "You know."

"The cat is upstairs somewhere…"

"Thanks."  The Vampire then shoved the thug through the wall and walked up the stairs.  A young-looking man with dark blue wings paused as he saw the vampire heading his way.  "Well… shit."


	22. Final Rescue

22

"You," Marcus called.

"So much for getting healed up first… what?"

"Where is she?"

"Oh, come on, I'm not supposed to make it that easy for you."  

Marcus raised his gun.  The blue wings spread, as did a feral grin on the angel's face.  "Guns don't bother me."  Marcus raised his gun and shot the chain holding the chandelier above Rafe's head.  The wings flapped once, creating a powerful backwind that pushed at Marcus and helped Rafe leap out of the way.  Flying was out, but the wings were still useful….

Marcus flickered out of existence and reappeared at the same spot, avoiding the wind.  "Nice trick."  "As is yours," Rafe replied before wincing and rubbing his shoulder.  Putting it back into place after One (or was it Two?) had dislocated it had been easy, but it still hurt.

"You are in no condition to fight me."

"No kiddin', but you didn't give me enough time to go get healed."

"Then tell me where she is."

"Nuh-uh, no way.  Can't do that."

"Then I have no choice."  He flickered again, reappearing in front of the angel.  Then, Marcus simply moved past his opponent, continuing his search.  Rafe blinked.  "That… did not go as anticipated…."  _Damn.  And I wanted a good fight, too.  Damn my big mouth!_

Marcus continued searching the halls.  She had to be somewhere.

"Well, well, well, looks like someone found himself a new shell," came Abel's mocking voice.  Marcus turned.  "The fuzzy twins."  "Not yet," Cain answered, standing next to his brother.  "But soon."  "You're going to grace me with a transformation."  Marcus holstered his gun.  "How sweet of you."

Abel glared at Cain.  "Full moon's not for a week, so sorry."

"Then get out of my way."

"No," Cain replied, ignoring Abel.  Fur was crawling over his hands.  

"Then I'm afraid I'll have to fight you two."

Abel snorted as Cain's height increased and he grew fangs.  "Different body… same pacifistic mind."

"But, you will see I am not as weak as before."

Cain snarled something; Abel translated.  "He says that will not matter."

"We shall see."

The smaller of the brothers attacked first, coming in at him with a low kick.  Marcus leapt away, dropping into a stance as he touched down.  Cain lumbered forward, uncharacteristically clumsy in transformation.  Marcus flickered forward, striking Cain hard in the stomach.  The werewolf seemed not to notice, instead striking at Marcus with one large hand-paw.

Marcus dodged the blow, leaping back again.  This would be tough.  Abel struck again, this time sending a gut-punch flying for Marcus.  Marcus dodged the punch, grabbed Abel's hand, and used the momentum to toss the unchanged werewolf, over his head and across the room.  Even while one paw lashed out at him, Cain's other paw reached up to snatch his brother out of the air. 

Marcus dropped again into a fighting stance.  Abel slowly began changing, not looking too happy about it.  He stopped about halfway through, and wound up looking like a kind of wolf-boy, though with more grace than his fully changed brother, and the retained ability to speak.  "Let's go."

Marcus pulled his gun out.  "Very well."  Abel froze, staring at it, replying irritably to Cain's growl, "No, I am not paranoid!"  

"You fear for silver?"

Cain shook his head, but Abel said nothing.

Marcus held up the gun.  The cartridge area was translucent for a second, and then became solid.  "I had to reload."  "Which means what, exactly?" Abel growled.

"I reset my gun's coding, so it would have a full clip."

"What kind of bullets?"  

Cain growled again.  "Would you shut up?" Abel added, glaring at Cain again.

"Would you care to find out?"

Cain lumbered in front of Abel, almost protectively.  His next growl was clearly along the lines of 'answer the question'.  Marcus said nothing.  instead, he started to walk around the werewolves.  Cain reached out to grab him with his hand-paw.  He flickered farther down the hallway.  Abel lunged after him, praying he wasn't running into deadly silver fire.

Marcus turned and shot Abel in the leg.  The wound began to burn.  The smaller werewolf cried out in pain, falling to the floor and clutching his wound.  "S-silver…"

Marcus kept walking, reholstering the pistol as its program once again reset.

Down the hall, a door opened and a familiar program walked calmly out.  "Sekhmet!"

"Not quite," the green-eyed woman said, turning to him.

"Bastet," he snarled.

"Who else?" she purred.  

"Release Sekhmet."

"Actually, bloodsucker, she let me take over this time."

"And why is that?"

"Do you really have to ask me what would scare her badly enough as to _let_ me take over?"

"Them.  Oh, well.  They need not frighten her anymore."  Marcus tossed his hair back.  "Their tricks no longer work on me."

"Intriguing as that sounds… they work on _her_."

"But I can protect her now.  Let her go."

She yawned.  "I don't feel like fighting anyway, and she's getting annoying."  There was a pause, a change in colour, then the blue-eyed Sekhmet was calling his name and running to him.  Marcus held her.  She buried her face in his chest.  "I knew you'd make it…."

"I'm not exactly as you remember me... my code isn't as stable as it has been."

She looked up at him, raising one of her hands to touch his face.  "I could tell it was you."  

"Yes... but there are a few problems."

"Like what?"

Marcus reach out to the wall and touched it.  His hand went through it.  "I can't turn it off."  She blinked, then looked at his face.  "But… I can touch you…."

"And I don't fall through the floor...but everything else has no substance to me."

She hugged him.  "I don't care.  You're okay."

He smiled back.  "It will make beds awkward," he mused.  She blushed and giggled.  "Well," she said shyly, "there's always the floor."  

"Assuming my feet aren't the only things that break the rule."

"I'm sure there's something we can do," she assured him, still blushing.

"Now... let us leave quickly."  Marcus started to pull her down the hall.  "We may have overstayed our welcome a bit too long."  She nodded.  

Marcus stopped by the house in the middle of the badlands.  "We must make a quick stop."

"That girl who was with you?"

He nodded as he knocked on the door.  No one answered.  Marcus stepped through it.  "Val?"  The house was empty, and her guitar was gone, as was the only photograph she had -- one of her and the Twins.  Marcus stepped out.  "Come, Sekhmet.  There is nothing for us here."  She blinked, confused, but nodded and took his hand.

He smiled, fangs showing again, and led her back on the trek to the city, and home, at last. 

***

Valkyrie could have easily phased inside the _château_, but she wasn't about to leave her guitar lying around.  It took her sometime to find a lower-story window, part momentarily with her belongings in order to phase, then open the window and retrieve book and guitar.

She couldn't believe she was doing this.

"We did not even bake a cake."

She paused, then turned.  "Hi, guys…."  The Twins were waiting for her.  "Why are you here?"  

"I… I'm not leaving," she said softly.  "You have come to join us?"  She nodded.  "I… can't leave you two."

"We know."

She bowed her head.  "It's why I stayed so close…"

"We will tell the Merovingian."  They phased away, very self-satisfied.

"… damn it…."


	23. Molly

23

It had been a week or so since Marcus had escaped with his cat-girl, leaving Rafe muttering about _otaku_ and someone named Li.  He was surly during his recovery, though he made a point of avoiding the Twins.  Now he'd been given some off-time, and he was going to use that time to get a few drinks in his system.

He didn't even make it to the pub.

He was attacked without warning, a sharp, searing pain flaring into his crippled wings and spreading down to his back, then across and through to the other wing.  Rafael screamed in pain as the programming governing them was torn from the main program, and he fell to the ground.  "My wings… no…."

"I must admit," a clipped, precise voice said mockingly, "I've had a hell of a time tracking you down, angel…  for some reason, even harder after I crippled you… you're the first to escape me with his wings in a long, long time, you know."

"Jameson," Rafael snapped, turning to the Agent… and nearly screaming as he saw his wings, his beautiful wings, being _defiled_ by the Agent's touch, as well as the warped grin on the Agent's face.  He couldn't fight.

The fallen angel whirled and ran, feeling his blood pouring down his back and hearing the Agent's laughing voice crying, "You can't run forever, Rafael!"

***

Rafe was dimly aware of a thudding sound near his ear, a cry of, "Saints an' angels!" and small hands pulling at him, trying to raise his body up.  He managed to help the child, the timbre of the voice was high and young enough that he couldn't tell the gender.

He was walked to a soft surface and laid down on his stomach, then those small hands had torn away his shirt.  A soft gasp, then running footsteps heading away and back, then a tearing sound.  Soon after, the hands were back, attempting to bind his wounds.  As the child finished, there was a pounding at the door.

Rafe's eyes widened as the footsteps walked to it.  "No!" he yelled, strength surging into him as he lunged for the child, a girl, he now saw.  She stared at him, wide-eyed.  "He'll kill us both… is there another door?"  She nodded and pointed.  Rafe pulled a key from his pocket.  "Help me to it."  The girl nodded as the door was pounded again.

Rafe inserted the key into the lock and opened the door as Jameson kicked the other one in…

***

A door within the _château's_ library opened, and Rafael stumbled in, a young girl supporting him.  "Shut it, quickly," he gasped to her, and the frightened child moved to do so.

 The Merovingian closed it instead.  "Rafael?  What is ze matter?  Where are your wings?"  Rafe held the girl protectively close.  "An… agent attacked me… took my wings…."  His face was pale, his bare chest inexpertly bandaged with sheet-strips stained red with his blood.

"Cain, quickly, fetch Hippocrates!" the Frenchman called.  The werewolf, who had been about to start tormenting the girl, sighed and went off.

"Ze girl... who is she?"

She clung to Rafe's leg; he laid a gentle hand on her head.  "I… don't know, but she saved my life and I wasn't about to leave her to Jameson," he spat.  "Ze Agent?"  Rafe nodded, then groaned and raised a hand to his head.  "Damn… my head…."  A few moments later, the same doctor that reprogrammed Sekhmet rushed into the room.  "By the Architect!" he exclaimed.

The girl was now trying to get Rafe to sit down, as he was swaying on his feet.

The doctor looked at his injuries.  "These are serious... his wings are completely gone."  "Tell me somethin'… I don't know!" Rafe snarled, before looking to Cain.  "Lay off," he warned the werewolf dangerously.  He backed away from the girl, trying and failing to look innocent.

"Cain, leave ze child alone," the Merovingian barked.  He nodded and left the room, acting as if that had been his intention all along.  Hippocrates looked at the injuries a few more moments.  "All I can do is stitch the wounds closed."   

"Then do it!  I'm losing blood here!"

He pulled out a length of thread and did so, pulling the remnants of the wing joints free with surprising strength.  Rafe lost consciousness at some point during the operation, while the girl watched, worry etched on her slim features.

"And you, little girl.  What is your name?" the Frenchman asked at length.

"Molly O'Doyle," she answered, the muttered, "An' I ain't little."

"Why did you save Rafael?"  

She looked confused at his question.  "He was hurt."

"But you 'ad nothing to gain from it."

"What does that have t' do with anything?"

The Merovingian looked confused.  She shrugged.  "He was hurt, and he woulda died without help, so I helped him."

"Interesting," the Frenchman mused, still sort of baffled.  "I couldn't jus' leave him there," she said softly, looking down.  "How is Rafael?"  the Merovingian asked suddenly.  

"Ask him yourself."  Hippocrates replied.

"He's doing just fine, thanks," Rafe said as he rose shakily to his feet.  "Ask him again once the shock wears off."  

"This child is interesting... what do we do with her?"

Rafe looked affectionately at her.  "Well… you did say you would reward me for bringing in that one pro… girl."

"Yes."

"I'll take this girl's safety here as my reward."

"Very well, it is done."  The Merovingian left the room.  "I must inform ze rest of my men, of course."  Rafael sighed, and smiled at the girl.  "Your parents won't mind?"  She looked confused.  "Parents?"

"Are you sure you feel alright?"  Hippocrates asked.

"Ask me again once reality sinks in," Rafe answered, then leaned closer so the girl wouldn't hear, "and make sure I don't try to delete myself."

He nodded.   "Alright."

***

Sekhmet hadn't left Marcus for more than fifteen minutes since their return to their apartment next to the Oracle unless he asked her for some privacy.  She didn't want to admit to herself how worried she'd been that she'd never see him again.

Marcus, on the other hand, was exploring exactly what was wrong with his body.  It appeared programs and humans, plugged or unplugged, could touch him, but nothing else, except for the floor he was on at the moment.

Sekhmet looked at his new appearance for a long moment, then, "Maybe the humans could help?"

"There do not seem to be many negative side effects of the assimilation... except for my lack of control... and that I can't retract my fangs."  He replied.  "I think I will be fine."  "All right," she said after a moment, hugging him.  "As long as I can touch you, I have no reason to have sorrow on my condition," he smiled as he hugged her back.  She blushed, looking up at him and touching his face gently.  "Is… the Merovingian's programming still in place?  About the showings of affection?"

"I... do not know.  I have not tested it."

Her hand didn't leave his skin.  "I see."

"But... my programming has become unstable.  I have been able to change some aspects of myself... it is painful... but perhaps...."  He closed his eyes.  Marcus's body faded slightly, and then blinked back into full reality.  "I might have... turned it off."

She stared at him.  "Wow… are you all right?"

He nodded.  "I believe so."  She smiled.  "I'm glad."  He smiled and held her closer to him.  She wrapped her arms around his waist, looking up at him with love shining in her eyes.  He kissed her lightly on the lips.  She kissed him back eagerly, joyfully, holding him as close as he was holding her.

***

Cain and Abel had actually grown to like the girl very quickly -- they felt that she had good taste in movies as she liked to watch their cheesy horror flicks and didn't razz them about it like everyone else.  When the Merovingian walked into the library, Abel had actually fallen asleep, so she had climbed into his lap to steal his prime movie-watching location.

"Molly, zere are zings we need to discuss," the Merovingian called.  She blinked, but obediently left Abel's lap to follow the Frenchman.  A surprisingly biddable girl for one who'd run away from a foster home.

"Zere are certain places in zis house you cannot go."

"Why?" she asked in the curious tones of one who intended to obey if the reason was deemed a good one.  Perhaps not so biddable after all.  "Because not all of my minions would be so friendly around a child," he replied.

"So they'd try t' hurt me, then?"

He nodded.

"Kay."  Her ever-busy hands were toying with the end of her long black braid.  "Where can't I go?"

"Ze west wing, ze dungeons, and ze foyer."

"Th' foyer?"

"Ze place with ze weapons."

She sighed.  "Man… an' Cain said he'd show me how t' use some o' them, too."

"Zey will 'ave to show you somewhere else...and stay away from ze twins."

"Who are th' twins?"

"Ze albino gentlemen."

"Oh.  _Them_."

"Do you understand?'

"Aye," she nodded.

"Very good.  Now, I 'ave important business to attend to."  The Merovingian rose and left the room.  "Remember my cautions."

Molly sighed and returned to the library, where she returned to her spot in Abel's lap after telling Cain she wasn't allowed in the foyer.  The taller werewolf looked disappointed at that.  He'd been looking forward to teaching her to use those weapons.


	24. Le Vrai

24

"Oi, Wings," Red called from his room.  The door was open, so it was safe to enter.  Archangel poked his head in to see Schwarz curled up with her head resting on Red's shoulder, fast asleep.  Red himself looked pretty sleepy, but he had a diskette in one hand.  "Listen, Wings, can y' do me a favour?"

"It would depend on the favour, Poitin-san," he answered.  Red nodded.  "I need ya t' take this t' Merv."

Archangel gave him a Look, and the Irishman sighed.  "I never realised 'e hated me this much, Wings.  T' take Sasha an' hurt 'er like that… it can't go on.  This jus' had my peace terms on it; I need ya t' deliver it f'r me."

"All right," Archangel agreed after a moment, reaching out and taking the disk.  "Thanks, lad," Red grinned, before sliding his arm around Sasha and sliding down, himself going to sleep.  Archangel rolled his eyes before going to hunt down his captain.

"Lookin' for somethin'?"  Poni asked as he passed her.

"Epona-san… this is going to seem an odd request…."

"What now?"

"I need to enter the Matrix and return to the Merovingian's _château_."

"...you have got to be kiddin."

"_Iie_, Epona-san.  Poitin-san asked it of me."

"Why in blazes?"

"He is frightened, Epona-san.  He nearly lost Schwarz-san because of something foolish he did when he was younger than I.  He's trying to prevent such a thing from happening again."

"I understand that, but goin to th' belly of the beast?"

"It is the best way, and Poitin-san does not wish to risk you or Pyre-chan."

"I'm not sendin' you in there alone."

"_Hai_, Epona-san."

"Pyre'll go with you... I'll watch, just in case."

He nodded consent, sliding the chip into his pocket.  "Where is Pyre-chan?"

"Trainin'."

He nodded and headed down to the broadcast port.  "Salvo-san… Pyre-chan and I are being sent on a small miss… hello, Saikuron-san."  The black man waved at him.  "Kid, if ya can't pronounce it, just call me Cy," he grinned.

"Mission where?"  Salvo asked.

"Mount Shasta."

"Why you going back to that place?"  Salvo asked questioningly.

Cyclone gave him an appraising look.  "I know why.  Has to do with Red and that job he pulled six years ago, huh?"  Archangel nodded.  "Alright... just a sec.  I'll send Pyre straight from her program to the construct."  Salvo replied, typing rapidly.

Archangel nodded, climbing into one of the chairs.  Cyclone helped jack him in, but mostly stayed out of Salvo's way, polite Operator that he was.

The construct loaded in front of his eyes.  Pyre was waiting, a bruise on her forehead.  "Pyre-chan," he greeted her.  "Angel."  She grumbled, holding her head.  "What's the mission?"  He showed her the disk.  "Give this to the Merovingian and leave."

"And I'm not a little girl."

"_Hai_, Pyre-san."

"That's better."  She grabbed her sawed off shotgun and a couple pistols.  "I'm ready."

As usual, he selected only bladed weapons, though now that stealth was not an issue he took up a _naginata_.  "As am I."

She pulled out her cell and gave Salvo a call.  "We're ready."

"As close to the Merovingianas you can, Salvo-san," Archangel called.  "I do not wish to fly again."

"Fly?"  Pyre gave him an odd look.

"In a jet, Pyre-san.  Only the One is able to truly fly."

"Riiiiight."  Pyre rolled her eyes.  Archangel allowed himself a small smile as they hacked into the Matrix.  "Shall we, Pyre-san?"

"As long as we don't get too close to that French pervert."  Pyre mumbled.

Archangel quickly found his bearings and led her to a tall building.  "This is where his restaurant is… you will find that it is a very different place from Club Hell."  "Just because a place seems nicer in appearance, doesn't mean the people are any better."  Pyre stepped forward into the building.  "At least Club Hell's honest."

"You have a point… floor 101."

She hit the button on the elevator.  "You think this mission'll be that hard?"

"Where the Merovingian is concerned… who can tell?"

"You have a point... at least you know agents are trying to kill you."

"Pyre-san, are you always this cynical?"

"Nope."  The elevator dinged as they reached the 101st floor.  "Sometimes I'm even worse."

"I wonder how long it will be before you try to kill Poitin-san."

"Why?"

"Because the two of you are alike in that you are opposites."

Pyre stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway outside the restaurant.  "I'll keep that in mind."  Archangel strode to stay abreast of her, curious as to how this meeting would go as well as how well he could work with the beautiful woman.

"_Oui, __je__peux__ vous aider?"_ the man at the front asked.

"We are here to speak with the Merovingian," Archangel answered.  The man gave him an odd look.  "This way."

"Looks like he was got off guard."  Pyre smirked as the man led the two rebels through the doors and to the table at the end of the restaurant's massive room.  The Merovingian had a startled expression on his face, but quickly regained his composure.

"A nice change, wouldn't you agree?" Archangel replied, gulping as he saw Persephone.  "To what do I owe ze pleasure, Archangel and new girl?" the Merovingian asked as they approached, motioning them to sit.

"We're here with a message," Archangel answered.

"And zat is?"

Archangel pulled the disk out of his jacket.  "I don't know.  Poitin-san asked me to deliver this to you."

"And what is on zis... disk?"

"Again, I do not know.  He did not tell me."

"Very well... I will 'ave zis checked.  Would you two like to join Persephone and myself for some wine at the _Château_ while we wait?"

Archangel looked at Pyre.  He expected that a man like the Merovingian might have some _sake_, but he wasn't sure if going there was a good idea.  Pyre looked back at Archangel and shrugged, also unsure.  "We have your word we will leave alive and intact?" Archangel asked.

"But of course," he replied.  "I would never harm my guests."

Archangel at last nodded.  "All right." Pyre still looked mistrusting.  Frankly, Archangel felt the same way.  However, he was curious about that disk.  The Merovingian rose, holding out his hand for Persephone.  She rose gracefully, taking his hand and not sparing Archangel even a glance.  Archangel rose also, casting a wary eye towards the Merovingian's bodyguards.  Pyre rose last, hand still in her jacket for any sign of betrayal.  Then, the Frenchman led all of them out, towards the door to the kitchen.

Archangel winced; he had not grown a fondness for travelling by key.

The Merovingian opened the door and led them through the front room, off to his main parlour.  In the process, he passed his disk to one of his minions and gave a few commands in French.

Persephone continued to ignore Archangel, allowing him to ponder the young woman beside him while they followed the Frenchman.  "I hope something good's on the disk."  Pyre whispered to Archangel.  "I speak French."

"What did they say?" Archangel whispered back.

"If the disk's a dud, we're going to be shot."

"Then I hope that the information transferred properly."

"Me too."

The Merovingian opened the door to the parlour and motioned for his guests to enter.  Archangel walked in, and blinked at what he saw.  A smile worked its way onto his face.  "So the assassin has become a baby-sitter?" he asked as he saw Cain with a little kid on his shoulders.  Cain glared at him.  "Shut up."

"She is one of our more recent houseguests," the Merovingian replied.  The kid waved shyly at the two humans as Cain set her down.  "C'mon, Molly, let's go back to the library and wake Abel up," he said, shooting a glare at Archangel and Pyre that clearly said, 'Not. A. Word.'

"Now, if I may ask, why are your two 'ere instead of ze Irishman?"

"He was… otherwise occupied," Archangel said, straight-faced.  "I also believe he may have thought you might have him shot on sight."

"Perhaps."

Archangel nodded.  "Despite all evidence to the contrary, he seems to have a strong desire to live."

The Merovingian pulled a bottle from a cabinet.  "Merlot, 1890."  Archangel looked interested, but asked, "Would you happen to have _sake_?  I have not had any in a very long time."  He called to a random servant, "Get some _sake_ for the young man, and make sure it's the right temperature, for once."  The servant nodded and ran off.

"_Arigatou,_ Merovingian-san."

"I do my best to be a... gracious 'ost, especially since many of my guests only get to stay once."

"Charming."  Pyre muttered.  Archangel remained poker-faced, but he agreed with his companion.  _Poitin-san, if you screwed this up I will haunt you until your death_.

The Merovingian poured a cup for himself. Persephone, and Pyre.  Pyre didn't touch hers.  When his _sake_ arrived, Archangel sipped and closed his eyes appreciatively.  The original minion came back and whispered somethin to the Merovingian.  The Frenchman's eyes widened, and he began to giggle hysterically.  Archangel exchanged a look with Pyre as Persephone asked, "What is it, my love?"  He whispered into her ear.

Her own eyes widened, and she chuckled.

"You two are free to go...," he burst out laughing once more.

"Is there a return message for Poitin-san?" Archangel asked.

"Tell 'im 'is apology was… appreciated."

_Why do I get the feeling that is not the answer Poitin-san wished for…?_  Archangel rose, looking to Pyre.  Pyre was already up.  "Let's get out of here."  "_Hai_, Pyre-san," the young man replied.  Persephone leaned over to her husband and whispered, "If we ever need to force his hand… that girl is his weakness."

The Frenchman raised an eyebrow and smirked.


	25. Jameson

25

The two rebels left then, being escorted from the _château_ by one of the Frenchman's minions.  The pair walked into the restaurant, Archangel unnerved by the smirk.  He hid it remarkably well, however.

"Ug, am I glad to be out of there."  Pyre sighed.

"I agree," he replied.  "I am relieved Persephone did not flirt with me this time."

"'This time?'"

Surprisingly, he blushed, but did not answer.  Pyre pulled out her cell.  After a few moments, she looked to Archangel.  "Alright, there's an exit a couple blocks from here that Salvo says we can take."  "_Arigatou_," he replied, taking the lead.  After a moment, he paused.  "Pyre-san…"

"Yeah?"

"We are being followed."

"I noticed.  Who?"

"I am unsure.  Call Salvo-san."

Pyre pulled out her phone and hit the autodial for the ship.

"Operator," came Cyclone's cheerful voice.

"Who's following us?"

"I suggest ya both get out fast.  It's an Agent."

"Could we make it if we ran?"

"Only one way to find out.  Be careful.  He ain't actin' like any Agent I've seen."

She hung up the phone and said calmly.  "Agent."

"_Kuso_," he muttered.  "Let's go."

"One."

"Two."

"Three!"  Pyre called out, and then started to bolt for the exit.  He followed her, taking  care not to pass her.  The Agent's speed also increased.  They reached the exit, Archangel kicking in the door.

The phone was already ringing.  "Pyre-san, you first!"  "Bullshit!" she yelled.  "I have the shotgun, I can hold it off longer."

"God damn it, Pyre!" he snapped, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her over to the telephone.  Before she could escape his grip, he snatched up the phone and pushed it against her ear.

She snarled a curse at him the moment she exited the false reality of the Matrix.  He hung up the phone and dove away as the Agent reached out for him.  He watched the "man" warily as the exit signal went off again.

Archangel lunged for the ringing phone, but the agent grabbed the back of his neck and threw him away.  The fighter twisted in midair to slam his feet against the wall, launching himself away from the Agent.  Why wasn't he using his Desert Eagle?

The Agent was suddenly in front of him, grabbing him by the throat and hauling him off the ground.  His grin was twisted, insane as he stared into Archangel's eyes before whispering something and slamming a palm into his chest.

A sharp, sickening pain tore through him, and Archangel was unable to hold back his scream.

Everyone jumped as a scream tore itself from the unconscious Archangel's throat.  Red turned to see him spasming violently, and he lunged for the young man, holding him down barely in time -- Archangel's jerking nearly pulled the jack from his neck.  "What the hell is goin' on!?" the Irishman bellowed.

Cyclone couldn't believe what he were reading.  "That Agent… he's changing Angel's code!"

"_How!?"_

"I have no fucking clue!"

A flare of coding, and Archangel's back arched as his scream intensified.  Had Red not been holding his head and neck down, he would have unplugged himself.  The scream stopped without warning, and he went limp.  Red didn't let go.  "What th' fuck did 'e _do_ t' Wings!?"

"I… don't believe it…." 

The pain increased.  It felt as though something under the skin of his back was demanding freedom.  An indescribable flash of pure _agony_, and whatever it was exploded from his back.  He caught a flash of white before he blacked out.

Rafe's feet slammed against the pavement as he raced for the rebels' exit.  He crashed through the door as white wings burst from the Japanese boy's back, shredding his shirt and jacket.  Jameson dropped the limp figure to the ground and prepared to steal the boy's wings; Rafe hit him with a full-on blindside tackle, feeling something in his collarbone give as Jameson slammed into the ground.

Rafe gave him no time to recover, grabbing the Agent by his perfect hair and pounding his face against the concrete floor several times before taking the unconscious rebel into his arms and running like hell.

Using a key, he opened a door into the foyer of the _château_ and slipped inside, slamming it shut with one foot.  At last allowing his "heart" to slow, he leaned against the door and slowly slid to the floor, still holding the human in his arms.

"Why the hell did I do that?" he wondered aloud, looking at the boy.  Fuck, but he resembled Seraph now.  Were it not for the difference in facial structure and height, he could have _been_ Seraph before the firewall had lost his wings.

If Jameson could do _this_….

Rafe's eyes fell on the white feathers stained red with Archangel's blood.  Wearily, he carried the human to the library -- Cain and Abel were showing Molly how to spar elsewhere -- and laid him face down on the couch.  He winced as he saw the human's shredded back, and left to clean himself up and get the supplies he needed to fix up the human.

This… was not good.

"Send me in after him."  Was Pyre's immediate response.

"Won't do any good," Cyclone sighed.

"Like fuck it won't."

"Pyre, take a look at his brainwaves.  He's comatose.  That agent did _something_ to him."

"But that agent's not going to stop going after him because he's at the Merovingian's!"

"Pyre," came Red's calm voice.  "It's the safest place for him to be right now.  He can't go anywhere else in the Matrix without attracting Agent attention now."

"I wonder....if that was a normal agent."  Poni said at length.

"No," Cyclone replied.  "I've seen him before."

All attention was on him.

"In Ireland," he clarified.  "He attacked an angel program an' took his wings."

"But why give Angel wings?"  Poni asked again.  He sighed.  "That, I don't know.  But the program who saved him is the same one whose wings were stolen."

"So we're dealin with a rogue?"

"I don't know. He reads like an Agent, but…."

"But?"

"The wing-collecting bit.  I don't get it at all."

"Now's not the time to be discussing motive!"  Pyre cried.  "We need to get Angel out of there!"

"We can't do that until he's conscious," Cyclone shot back.  "He'll regain consciousness in transit... and last time I checked, you weren't crew on this ship."

"Then go talk to your own operator."

"Everyone shut up."  Poni suddenly interjected.  "This isn't helpin us."  "Wha' can we do?" Red demanded, holding Schwarz close.  "We go after him the moment he wakes up, that's what."

He nodded.  "And until then?"

"We wait."

"Aye."

Pyre snarled and stalked off to her room.  Red watched her go.  "You think she likes 'im?"  Poni shrugged.  "Hard t' say with that one."  "You've a point, Poni," Schwarz said softly, "but it could be that she knows that he likes her."

"Aye, even the slowest know that."

"Hey!"

"But it is not usual for the target to realise it, Poni."

"True."  She shrugged.

Red reached out, brushing some of Archangel's sable bangs from his closed eyes.  "Wings… I'm sorry, man."

***

Rafe looked at the boy for a long moment, brushing his fingers longingly against the white feathers.  "I wonder if you could fly…," he whispered, an expression of almost jealousy in his crimson eyes before he rose and strode to the window, staring out into the sky.  "Damn it…"  He went to look for the Merovingian.

Seconds after he left, Molly walked in, looking for Cain and Abel.  She eyed the man on the couch for a long moment, picked up a bloody feather from the floor, then headed for the Merovingian's office, waiting politely by the door until he noticed her.

He opened the door a few moments later, and blinked when he saw Molly standing there.  "Yes, Molly, what is it?"  She toyed with the blood-stained white feather, then asked, "I'm sorry t' bother you, but who's th' man with wings in th' library?"

"Man with wings?"

She nodded, holding up the feather by the clean edges.  "This is his."

"I 'ave never seen it before."

She blinked.  "Oh…  I'm sorry for buggin' ya."

"Rafael!" he yelled loudly.

Rafe appeared with alacrity -- he'd actually been fairly close by.  "Yes?"  "What is ze meaning of zis?"  He held up the feather.  "Eh…," the angel looked carefully at the ceiling, "I was actually coming to talk to you about that…"

"About what?"

"Jameson has struck again… only this time…," it was hard for Rafe to get out.  Sheer disbelief, hatred, and envy rolled into one tended to make speaking difficult.

Merv raised an eyebrow.  "What?"

"He has… given wings to… no, forced wings upon… a human…."

"Anyone we know?" the Merovingian replied, more intrigued than worried.

"Um, I think he goes by Archangel."

"Him?  This web proves to grow more tangled by ze hour."

Girl and angel gave him matching confused looks.  "I think the kid is comatose… you could hear him screaming for a mile," Rafe said slowly.

"Zen call Hippocrates to get him patched up... and get ze shackles."

"Shackles?" Molly asked.  Rafe gently pushed her down the hall.  "Molly, why don't you run along and find the werewolves?  And tell Cain that I said to get you trained to use Berettas."  She nodded and ran off, successfully distracted.  Rafe then turned to the Merovingian.  "Why shackles?"

"Why would we let a prisoner run free?"

Rafe blinked.  "Prisoner?"

"Yes, Prisoner."

Rafe looked a bit uncomfortable with that, but he went off to do as he was told.

The Merovingian smiled wickedly.  "Now, we see just 'ow much his friends truly care about 'im."


	26. Cookie

26

Pain.

Pain defined his existence.

No.

The pain was not real, he was not in the real world.  This was the Matrix; the pain was not real; he could overcome it.

…

Or not.

But he was alive, and awake… and tied down.  Archangel opened his eyes, and groaned as light flooded into them.  "_Kuso…_"

"You are awake."  A French voice said with amused haughtiness.  Archangel turned his head to the frenchman, unable to understand the English in his pain.  The face he knew, however.  "M-Merovingian-san…"

"So good to 'ave you back 'ere so soon."

"_N-nani…?_"

"Do you understand now?"  The Merovingian replied in Japanese.  "_Hai_," he answered softly, trying not to worsen his headache.  "What happened…?"

"My minion Rafael found you and brought you here before the Agent could take his trophy."

"Trophy?"

"Your wings."

"My… my _what_!?"

"You are now the proud owner of a pair of wings."

Archangel stared at the Merovingian, then twisted to look behind him.  Sure enough, snow-white wings had sprouted from his bare back.  "What in…."  He could not complete his thought.

"It is the Agent Jameson's work."

Archangel's eyes widened as his mind grew more alert.  "You mean _he_ did that to me!?"

The Merovingian nodded.  Archangel tried to get up and found he couldn't.  "Do you mind explaining why I seem to be tied down?"

"So you could not get away."

Archangel grumbled something in Japanese.  "So I am to be bait, then," he stated flatly.  "Not bait, exactly.  A bargaining chip."

"To be used for what?  And does it have to do with Poitin-san at all?"

"No, I 'ave forgiven 'im.  'owever, zere are still other things i want."

Archangel suppressed a groan.  "And how will holding me help you achieve them?"

"You will see when the time comes."

More grumbling in Japanese, which, while uncomplimentary, was still polite.  There was a soft knock at the door, as if made by a small fist.  The Merovingian opened the door.  "Yes, Molly?"  Archangel turned his head to see a young girl -- a child still -- with black hair say politely, "Cain and Abel would like to know if they're allowed to train me to use assault weapons yet."

The Merovingian groaned.  "I can't leave zose morons alone for more zan a minute… of course not, Molly.  You are too small."  Molly looked a little disappointed.  "Are handguns okay?"   He thought for a moment, and the nodded.  "I suppose so."  She brightened.  "Thank you!" she cried gleefully before dashing off.  

"Imagine... ze recoil would 'ave broken her shoulder!"

Archangel blinked.  "She is… human?"

"Zere is something unusual about a human?"

"I would not expect a human child to reside in this place," Archangel replied before changing the subject.  "You are going to use me against your two escapees, aren't you?"

"Perhaps."

_Which translates to 'yes' in Merovingian-speak… _kuso._  This is not good._

***

Sekhmet had gone to visit the Oracle for a moment, returning with a plate of the cookies she had made with the intuitive program.  "Hey, Marcus?" she called.

"Yes?"  he replied

She smiled up at her transformed love, setting the plate down on the table in their small kitchen, giving him a gentle hug.  "The Oracle told me to take these back.  She wants you to try one."  He looked at them, unsure.  "Could I touch them?"  "You won't know unless you try," Sekhmet replied.  He reached down and tried to pick up a cookie.

Nothing.  His hand passed through the cookie.  "It is no use."  Sekhmet's face fell.  "Darn… I wanted you to try one."  She reached out and picked up the same cookie as his hand came out.  Instantly, it became real to the vampire.

Sekhmet's eyes widened.  "Marcus…"

His eyes widened, unsure.  Sekhmet hesitated, then tentatively raised the cookie to his mouth.  He bit it, and then smiled.  "I...can taste it."  She grinned back.  "Do you like it?"  He smiled and nodded.  "I helped the Oracle make them," she admitted a bit shyly.  "You did an excellent job."  he smiled.

"Thank you," she replied, sliding her arms around his waist and hugging him.  He hugged her back and kissed her on the forehead.  She smiled, leaning her head against his chest.  "Thank you… for saving me again."  

"It was...my pleasure."

"Marcus?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you take me away from him in the first place?"

"I could see you were not a killer."

"How… how did you know?"

"Your eyes.  Your sunrises."

She looked up at him.  "You… knew what I had been?"  He nodded.  "Again, from your eyes."  "So, that human saying is true," she mused.   He gave her an odd look.  "They say that the eyes are the window to a person's soul," Sekhmet elaborated.  "It's how I knew you wouldn't hurt me."  He smiled at her, fangs unintentionally showing.

She reached up to gently caress his cheek.  "I love you, Marcus…"  "I also love you."  he replied, smiling still.  Her hand withdrew to slide around his waist as she rubbed her cheek against his chest, a semi-purr rumbling from her throat.  He held her close, not even beginning to let her go.

"Marcus?"

"Yes?"

"Kiss me?  Please?"  She looked up at him.  He brushed the  hair from her face and kissed her lightly on the lips.  She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders and standing on her tiptoes to kiss him back.  He sunk deeper into the kiss, holding her tighter  She replied eagerly, her tail sliding against his leg as she snuggled closer to him.

A certain navy-haired man stood outside the Oracle's door, a black trench coat wrapped tightly around his lanky frame, his face revealing no sign of the constant pain he was in as his back slowly healed from the theft of his wings.  At last, he raised a hand and knocked twice.

The door opened before the first beat struck wood.

Rafael hesitated, looking at the program before him.  At last he asked, "May I enter?"  "Go right ahead."  The Oracle replied.  He hesitated once more before doing so, obviously not too comfortable with what he was doing.  "Please, sit."  She gestured to a couch along one of the walls

Rafael nodded and obeyed, using one of his hands to slide his ponytail off his shoulder and behind him.  "Candy?"  "No, thank you," he replied, working up the nerve to ask her what he had come to ask her.

She pulled out a cigarette and took a drag.  "I can wait here all night."

"But I've not much time… Oracle… there is a girl, a human girl, in my care.  She… she's plugged into the Matrix, but she resides in the _château_ of the Merovingian.  I…," it was hard for him to voice his fear.

"You're wondering if she might be taken over by an Agent."

He nodded.  "I don't want to lose her… but an Agent in the _château_ would be bad for us all, especially Molly."  "It is a very real possibility, I'm afraid."  The Oracle replied.  "Is there anything I can do to keep that from happening?" he asked worriedly.  "I…  she saved me from deletion, and I don't want anything to happen to her."

"As long as Molly is tied into the matrix, she's software...her code would need to be reconfigured."  She replied.  Rafe bit his lip.  "Is there a safe way of doing it?"

"You would have to ask an expert on altering codes."

"The Alchemist?"

She nodded.  Rafe considered this, then nodded.  "Thank you, Oracle."  "Happy to oblige."  she smiled.  "A cookie for the road?"  He politely declined.  "I must return to him before my absence is duly noted…"  Left unspoken was Rafe's suspicion that the Merovingian already knew about his little visit.

"Take care of yourself...and her."

"I intend to."  Rafe nodded to her and turned to leave… then stopped as he saw Seraph barring his path.

"Hello."

"Seraph," Rafael replied, eyeing him warily.  

"Your wings?"

Rage flooded the angel's face.  "An agent," he spat.  Seraph scowled.  "I have heard of him... he is in town?"  A nod.  "Hit me and some kid called Archangel… forced wings on the kid; I got to him before Jameson could steal 'em."

Seraph thought for a moment.  "Where did you last see him?"

"A rebel exit, bleeding all over the floor."  _Courtesy of me_, he didn't add.

"I am curious to know the location of this exit."

"Going on an agent-hunt, Seraph?"  Rafe dredged up the memory and told him.

"Something along those lines."

"Good luck.  You'll need it."


	27. Combat Training

27

In the apartment shared by the refugees, the cat-girl in Marcus' arms stirred and woke, opening bright green eyes.

Seraph was gone.  A smirking Bastet slid from the vampire's hold without waking him, stopping to look down on him for a moment.  Grudgingly, she admitted that her otherself did have good taste as far as men were concerned, then she turned and slipped outside the building, removing a key from a drawer before she left the apartment.

Her steps took her to a parking garage, where she opened a door with the key leading directly into the _château_ -- more accurately, into the room beside the Merovingian's study.  She slipped outside and had to do a double take as she saw Abel run past after what appeared to be a human child.

Shrugging, she knocked on the door of the study.

"Come in."

Bastet entered.  "Hello," she said softly.

"Ah, Bastet, to what do I own ze pleasure?"  The Merovingian smirked, sitting back in a chair.

"Seraph left, so I made use of the opportunity," she replied.

"An what 'ave you brought me?"

"Information on Marcus' new form."

"I'm all ears."

She smirked.  "It has some drawbacks -- all he can touch are humans, both unplugged and coppertops, and sentient programs like ourselves.  And floors.  Anything else in intangible to him… or so I thought until this afternoon."

"Go on."

"Apparently, Sekhmet made cookies with the Oracle at some point while you were holding Marcus," she rolled her eyes at the cookies part.  "She brought some back for him to try, and as expected, he couldn't touch them… until she touched one at the same time as he."

"So...perhaps 'e can only be affected by those objects held by somezing 'e can normally touch?"

"I suppose so.  I stopped paying attention because the fluff was making me gag… but the effect could only work with Sekhmet.  I'm not sure."

"Zen 'e 'as a weakness."

She nodded.  "Her.  Me, in a way."

He nodded, smirking.  "Zis will, undoubtedly, be useful in ze future."  

"Of course… do you have any orders for me?"

"Observe.  Try to find more weaknesses, for now."

"Yes, sir," she replied, then hesitated.  "Um… was I… seeing things, or… is there a human kid running around?"

"Molly."

"'Molly', I see…  can I ask why?"

"She is Rafael's charge... and she is not to be touched."

"Understood," she replied, thinking, _I bet the Twins are taking that well_.

"Is zere anything else?"

"Is Rafael a tall guy with blue hair?"

He nodded.  "Why?"

"I saw him today… or rather, Sekhmet did."

"He was at ze Oracle's, was he not?"

She nodded.

"Yes, i knew zis already."

"Oh.  That shouldn't surprise me."

"Indeed."

She sighed and waited for dismissal so she could go hunt down the Twins.  "If you 'ave no other report, you may leave."  Bastet nodded and did so, sniffing the air to catch the Twin's ghostly scent and follow it for some not-so-innocent flirtation.

Valkyrie hit the ground hard, gasping for air.  She was wounded in many places from her brothers' razors and too exhausted to phase.  She wasn't sure how long they'd been 'training', but her screaming muscles decreed it'd been too long.

The female ghost struggled to rise, wincing as she stretched her wounds.  "Get up."  One said coldly.  Unfortunately, her arms gave out and she collapsed to the ground once more.  Two kicked her in the chest.  She bit her lip to keep from crying out and slowly, unsteadily rose to her feet, trying to find the energy to phase and heal.

She was smacked for her troubles.

"Well, well… didn't know you two did combat training," a female voice purred.  They both twirled.  Behind them, Valkyrie silently collapsed, her program sliding into 'stand-by', or unconsciousness.  Bastet smirked.  "Hey, boys."

"Bastet."

She nodded.  "I was in the neighbourhood and thought I'd drop in for a visit.  Didn't know you were busy."  Two nudged Val again and shrugged.  "Not anymore."  

"So I see.  Combat training, punishment, or remedial combat training?"

"All."  The replied simultaneously.  She blinked.  "Wow… even Sekhmet ain't that bad."

"She betrayed her family."

"Oh."  Bastet looked from the Twins to the girl and idly wondered how anyone could be dumb enough to betray them.  "I suppose you wouldn't be in a mood to play, then," she sighed.  

"She is too weak for further training at this point."  

Bastet brightened.  "Then you _do_ want to play?"

They smiled evilly.

So did she.

The door opened, and three people entered: Cain, Abel, and the child Molly, who Abel was carrying.  On seeing the twins Abel turned around and walked out.  Cain followed, but not before telling Bastet, "You should get back before the traitor gets suspicious."

The twins scowled.

Bastet glared at Cain, who shrugged and exited.  "I'm going to hurt him for that when this is over," she muttered.

***

Seraph walked calmly down the streets, watching casually for two things -- agents, and angels, especially those that had sign of tampered-with wings.  There was not an angel to be found, but then again, news like Jameson tended to get around quickly.

Speaking of the wing-collecting agent, he too was out hunting rebels and angels, and was irritated by the lack of either.  He was still annoyed at having lost two angels within a week's time.

Seraph stopped a few people on the street, politely asking them if they had seen any balding men, wearing grey suits and sunglasses in the area.

No adults had noticed anything, but one little boy tugged on the hem of Seraph's jacket after another futile stop.

"Yes, little one?"

"I saw someone like that."

"Where, small one?"

"Near Jackson street," the boy replied.  "Two other guys in suits were telling him off for hunting angels."  He scowled.  "I like angels.  I hope he got punished."

Seraph smiled and handed the boy one of the Oracle's candies.  "Thank you very much, little one."  Then, the Asian program made his way as fast as possible for Jackson Street.  The child ran off.

Agent Jameson was not in a good mood.  He strode down Jackson street, grumbling curses the whole way.  "You are Agent Jameson, I presume."  Came a voice behind him.  The agent turned… and felt a dark smile spread on his face.  Not just an angel, but _the_ angel.

"So, you're the one they call Seraph."

"Yes."

"The so-called wingless angel."

"The so-called angel hunter."

"Far from 'so-called', Seraph.  I_ am_ the hunter of angels."

"Why do you hunt your fellow programs?"

"Because it's fun."

"Cruelty for fun."  Seraph smirked.  "How human of you."

"Cruelty?"

"You cause pain to another for fun, do you not?"

"Last I heard that was sadism."

"There is a difference?"

"Perhaps not."  Jameson eyed Seraph meditatively.  Yes, the program before him was an angel, but he had no wings.  It would be hard, then, to take this one's wings as a trophy… unless that trick with the rebel boy would work on Seraph.  An evil smirk etched itself on his face.

"You will stop this action."

"Will I?" Jameson asked.  "And who's going to make me, Seraph?  You?"

"If necessary."

"I think I'm going to enjoy this…."

"Think, Jameson.  If you do not stop this, then you will be returned to the source as a malfunctioning program."

"Not at all.  I do my job… and you might notice that all the angels I take are Exiles."

"Then why have you been unable to finish them off?  If you were not so obsessed with taking their wings, then you would have succeeded where you failed."  Seraph replied.  "Your obsession has cost you."

Jameson's eyes narrowed.  "If that _program_ hadn't interfered, that rebel would be dead and I would have his wings."

"The same program that escaped you before, correct?"

Snarl from the agent.  "He had a key."

"Now you are making up excuses for failing?"

"His time will come," the Jameson growled.

"As will yours."

"And yours… but I think that _your_ time, Seraph… is now!"  He lunged for the wingless angel, bringing up his new talent of growing wings and preparing to insert it into Seraph's code.  Seraph dodged the attack and struck his foot out at the last minute, hurling the agent forward and through a store window.

Jameson landed on his feet and drew his Desert Eagle (a.k.a. one of the suckiest guns in existence) and fired at Seraph.  Seraph dodged out of the way, avoiding every shot.  Jameson frowned, recalling rumours that he'd heard about the oriental firewall… how he seemed to be a mirror of his opponents….

Jameson dropped his empty gun and charged Seraph, fists raised.  The program replied by charging back into combat, smashing out a fist for the agent's head.  Jameson dodged and tried again to insert his wing program into Seraph's code.  Seraph dodged out of the way, grabbing Jameson's arm and swinging the rogue agent into a telephone pole, severing it in two.  Jameson again rolled to his feet, rubbing his back.  Why in _hell_ had agents been programmed to feel pain?  It was detrimental!

Seraph was still in stance.

Jameson growled and started for Seraph… but paused as he received orders from the Mainframe.  He glared at seraph.  "This isn't over," he stated before turning and striding away.


	28. Hippocrates

28

Bastet slid through the evening streets, taking care to keep her tail and ears covered.  She didn't care if she frightened coppertops, but she _did_ care that she would attract agent attention.  She did run into a little boy, but he didn't see her, so intent was he on the battle occurring down the backstreet.  However, she _could_ smell Seraph's scent, and that encouraged her to pick up the pace a bit.

"Sekhmet?"

_Oh, shit…_  "Yes?" she asked, not turning, trying to wake up the main program.  "Why are you away from the apartment?  Is something wrong?"

"No, I… was  restless."  Her main program was resisting.  _Damn it, Sekhmet, if he catches us we're dead!  The Mero will kill us, and you know it, so play along!  _"You should not be out alone..."  He trailed off.

Sekhmet turned and smiled at him.  "Well, I can't exactly take Marcus…."  

"Alright.  You should head home.  There are agents in the area."

She nodded.  "All right, Seraph."  She turned to continue to the apartment.  _I'm sorry,_ she thought sadly.

***

Rafe made it back to the Merovingian's with no incident other than some nutty fangirl latching onto him and squealing that he looked _exactly _like some character in some show he'd never heard of.  It took him almost thirty minutes to pry her off.

Once he was at the Merovingian's, he went on a search for Hippocrates, the Alchemist, after making sure Molly was all right with Cain and Abel.

He was in his office... which wasn't inside the chateau.  When Rafe found that out, he muttered a curse and went on a hunt for the key he'd need to get to the office.  He eventually found it in the vicinity under his bed and at last entered the Alchemist's domain.

It was a small office in a small town in the matrix, which featured Hippocrates's practice, in which he was known as Dr. LeRoy.

Rafe announced his present with a blunt, "So what is it you do here?  Heal the coppertops, or perform 'plastic surgery'?"  "I heal here.  Most of the plastic surgery is saved for the Merovingian's men."  He replied flatly.

"I need to talk to you."

"What about?"  The Alchemist replied.

Rafe hesitated a moment.  "Molly."

"The girl.  She's still with you?"

"There is no way in hell I'd ever her send her back to that foster family."

"And you're worried about the possibilities of an Agent."

Rafe gave him an odd look.  "Have you been talking to the Oracle?"

"I assumed this was why you were talking to me... the Oracle?"

Rafe was not good at covering his tracks, so he ignored them.  "Never mind.  Is there anything you can do to keep an agent from overwriting her?"

"There is something I can do..."  He opened a drawer and pulled out a small box, rummaging through it.  A portrait of him with a little girl and a woman about "his age"  fell over as Hippocrates rummaged.

Rafe picked it up and looked at it for a moment.

"Here's a... do you make it habit to look through other people's things?"  Hippocrates asked, holding a syringe.

"Sorry, it fell over," Rafe answered, setting it down carefully.

He handed the angel the syringe.  "This will scramble her code enough to make it null against agents... however, she won't be able to leave the matrix in any way shape or form while this is in her."

Rafe looked at it.  "Red pill or blue pill," he said softly.  "Are there any other side effects?"

"She'll need a check-up every month... there's a chance that her code could scramble some internal organs, but if its found soon enough, it can be corrected.  Also... she'll be invisible completely to agents now."

"Invisible as in they can't overwrite her, or they can't see her?"

"Both."

"Interesting," he mused.  "But other programs will be able to?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Thanks.  I owe you."

"You seem to do that quite a bit... how's the human faring?"

"Molly?  Or Archangel?"

"Archangel."

"Well, he's conscious… seems like he's got some back pain and wing cramps, but that's only expected.  And he refuses to speak in any language but Japanese right now.  I think he's sulking."

"What of his wings?  any abnormality?"

Rafe's eyebrow twitched.  "Not to my knowledge.  I can't _see_ any, and I doubt he'd tell me if he was having problems… although, the blood on the parts closest to his back won't come out, and its still crimson."

"Alright...good to know he's still alive, at least."

"I think the Frenchman's using him for bait, so he'll be alive for a bit longer."

"Understandable...he is the Frenchman."

Rafe nodded.  "Let me know if there's something I can do to repay you… I need to go drag Molly away from Cain and Abel before they ask to teach her the finer points of sword fighting or something.  Assault rifles, _honestly_… She's too _little,_ the recoil'd throw her down and break her shoulder!"

***

"Ah think th' only question is, do we wait for Merv's call, or go now?"  Poni said, staring at the ceiling in the planning room/dining room.  Red shrugged.   "Do we even know if Merv's holdin' him as bait f'r us, or f'r those two runaway programs?"

"I haven't seen any sign of them taking any action...and from what that vampire did, they would have got him if they could have."  Salvo replied.

"So he's bait for them," Red answered himself.  Schwarz and Cyclone had been called back to the _Echo_ two days earlier, and he missed having someone to bounce ideas off of.  He looked at Pyre.

Pyre was silent and brooding.

He sighed and looked back to his captain and operator.  "I'm sorry.  I shoulda handled my own damn business."

"It's too late to be havin' bloody regrets!"  Poni snapped.

"Ya think I don' know that?" Red shot back angrily.

"Then why don't ya get over it for one second!"

Red crossed his arms over his chest, looking as if he wanted to break something in half, preferably the Merovingian.

"The Merovingian's going to make us trade the two programs for Angel...why don't we trick him into believing that's what we're going to do?" Pyre said suddenly.  Red looked at her.  "Sounds like a plan… but there is one thing, though."

"What?"

"He's French.  He can smell a double-cross a mile away."

"But.'  Poni began.  "They can't detect a flaw in their own plan."

Red considered this and grinned.  "Point in your favour."

"We just need to find an' exploit it."  The Scotswoman replied.  

"Right.  Now, I'll be th' first t' say I ain't exactly the brains of this op, so, anyone have any ideas of where a flaw might be?"

"Let's wait until he tells us where he wants to make the trade."  Pyre suggested.  

Poni nodded, as did Red.  "He may only wan' one o' us, though," he said.  Poni smirked.  "Then that's all we give 'im."  Red had seen that smirk before.  

Not much scared the Irishman, but Poni's smirks were at the top of the list.

"Let's give Mr. Frenchman everything he requests.."  She continued to smirk, looking at Salvo's screen.  "And then some."


	29. Negotiations

29

Sekhmet slipped into the apartment she shared with Marcus, sniffing the air cautiously.  She couldn't tell if he was awake or not....

"Hello Sekhmet."  Marcus said from behind her.

She jumped and turned to face him.  "Hi, Marcus!" she smiled.  "Where were you just now?"  he inquired curiously.  "I went out for a walk," she replied easily.  "I see."  He replied, smiling fangily.  She reached up to caress his face, then she hugged him tightly, almost desperately.  He hugged her back, a little confused at first.  Sekhmet's grip only tightened as she hid her face in his shirt, inhaling his scent.  _If she makes me hurt you...__ I'd kill myself first!_

he held her, concerned.  "Is something wrong?"

"Don't let go?  Please?"

He held her tighter.  "Never."

Sekhmet pressed herself against him, scared at the choice she had just made.  If it came down to her and Marcus... well, Marcus came first.

***

The Merovingian sat in his library, reading a paper from the nearest town casually.

Rafe slipped inside, hunting for Molly.  He wanted her protected as soon as possible.  The Merovingian spoke without looking up.  "I trust ze Oracle told you some good news?"  Rafe jumped and gulped.  Of course, he'd expected that the Merovingian would find out, just... not _this_ quickly.  "Umm..."

"You can tell me, of course."  He stood.  "Or, should I say, you 'ave to tell me."

Rafe nodded.  "I did it for Molly," he said quietly.

"And what, exactly did you do for Molly?"

"I discovered a way to protect her from Agent possession."

"Which is?"

Rafe took the syringe from his pocket.  "The Alchemist gave it to me.  He said it would scramble her code enough to make it null against agents... but...."

"But?"

Rafe sighed.  "He said it would make it impossible for her to ever leave the Matrix; but more importantly, there's a chance it could hurt her."

"but more importantly, who is ze boss of Hippocrates ze Alchemist?"

"You...."

"Zen, I wonder...who could you 'ave gone to in place of ze Oracle for such a treatment?"

Rafe winced.  He really hadn't thought this one out.

"I would dock your pay....but was your payment not a certain little girl?"

The angel's eyes widened as he looked up at the Merovingian, shock and what could have been fear on his face.  "zo then tell me, Rafael...what do you think your punishment should be?"  The angel swallowed, mind racing for an option that didn't involve Molly.

"I'm waiting."

Rafe thought, starting to sweat a bit.  Sure, now his mind failed him.

The Merovingian stood, smiling as he put his paper on the table.  He started to leave the room, putting his hand on Rafe's shoulder.  "You have one day to think of an appropriate punishment.  Then, I zink of one for you."  The frenchman then left the room, and Rafe collapsed into a chair.  _Fuck_.

***

Red leaned back in the operator's chair, thinking that he had been an idiot to take first shift on screening for a phone call.  There was nothing to do but look at the Matrix code and sing, and he'd been forbidden from singing because he always did so _loudly_.  Defiantly, he hummed _The Fields of Athenry_.

Suddenly, there was a ringing noise.

Startled, he nearly fell out of the chair but recovered himself and flipped the proper switch.  "Substitute Op'rator."

"'Ello, Poitin."

Startled both by the voice and the use of his actual alias, Red actually _did_ fall out of the chair this time.  Ignoring that blow to his dignity, he rallied himself and demanded, "Is Angel all right!?"

"For ze moment."

That sounded ominous.  "What is it ya want?"

"I think you know."

"Marcus an' his kitty."

"Yes."

Red scowled; he was no negotiator.  If he didn't know better, he'd say that Merv had _planned_ the timing of his call.  "I'm s'posed t' ask 'when an' where,' right?"

"And I am suppos'd to say, "ze restaurant, 9 p. m.  No weapons."

"Okay.  I'm gonna assume that means with th' runaways, aye?"

"Oui."

Red ran a large hand through his hair.  "Anythin' else?"

"Yes.  Do not think about bringing reinforcements."

_Too late.__  Ah, well.  Rules that out._  "Well, I'll try t' be punctual.  Might be a bit on th' hard side, though, seein' as they're both of 'em programs and I'm jus' a human."

"I'm sure you'll figure something out."  Click.

"Fuck," Red commented to the empty air, then raised his voice.  "Oi, Poni!" he called.  "What is it?"  She called from down the hall.  "Frenchie called with 'is terms," he replied.  Poni walked casually into the room.  "Meeting at the restaurant, around nine-ish, one person, right?"  She smirked.  

"And weaponless.  Hacking the transmission, Cap'n?"

"Not at all."  Poni said with a smile.  "First rule of warfare, Red--know your enemy."

Red blinked.  "I'm missing somethin', ain't I?"

"It's a lot harder for people to shoot up a fancy restaurant in the middle of business hours than it is to shoot up, say Club Hel."  Poni replied matter-o-factly.  "In the club, you kin easily assume everyone's against ya... in the restaurant, there's not tellin'."

"True.  Wasn't in the Matrix long enough t' get a real job, so I dunno about business hours."

"And his little assumption's  gonna be his downfall."  Poni smirked.  "Get evry'one ready and call the escapees.  I'll tell you my plan once we've contacted them."

Red was uncertain, but he trusted his captain.  "I'm on it," he said, rising from the operator's chair and heading for Pyre's room.

Sekhmet blinked as the cell phone on the table rang.  "Marcus, who has this number?" she asked.  "The rebels, I believe."

Sekhmet picked it up... then handed it to Marcus.  "I don't trust myself," she said with a weak smile.  "Hello?"  Marcus asked.

"Oy, vamp," came Red's unmistakeable accent.  "Poni's havin' me make this call to ask a favour."

"What sort of favour?"

"Um, due to minor Agent intervention, Angel got hisself captured by Merv.  Merv wants you in exchange for him, but Poni's got some sort of plan she won't tell me 'til I've contacted you."

"Hmm....what should we do?"

"Gimme a sec... Oi, Poni?  What th' hell am I s'posed t' tell 'em?"

"Tell 'em not to tell Sekhmet a thing, and keep her constantly in the house all day.  Don't let her near any phones, cellular or otherwise."

Red repeated the message, along with an apology.  "It is alright."  Marcus responded.  "I'm honoured to repay my debt."  

"All right, then... this'll come out okay.  Hopefully."

"Fare well, Red.  I wish you the best of luck."

"Thanks.  See ya later."

Red sighed as he hung up.  "Now what, O Mighty Leader?" he asked, a shadow of a grin on his face.  He was scared.  "Now, all my years of drama school pay off.  Get Salvo, we've got alot of work to do and not much time to do it in."

He nodded, running off to grab their operator.

It had been nearly twenty-four hours.  Rafe couldn't think of anything suitable for punishment that didn't involve Molly.  He smiled at the child, who had settled down with a book after playing with Cain and Abel for hours.

"Zey are zo cute when zey are young, are zey not?"  came a French voice behind him.

Rafe nodded, rising and turning to face the Frenchman wearily.

"Ave you found out a punishment?"

He looked at Molly, but she was hyper-focused on her book, then shook his head.  "Truthfully, I can't think of any punishment worse than the loss of my wings that does not involve Molly in some way..."  He turned his eyes on the Frenchman.  "All I ask is that you not harm Molly to punish me."

"Ze twins have been failing badly lately.  You are to inform zem, in person, that they are receiving a 50% pay cut and are not to leave ze château under any circumstances."

The looks on Rafe's face flickered between 'you have _got_ to be joking' and 'oh, dear Source, I am going to die.'  However, pale as he was, he nodded his assent.  

"Unless you 'ave a better idea for punishment?"

Rafe's brain worked rapidly, then he remembered the rebel in the basement.  "There's always making me guard that winged kid," he said softly, his jealousy undisguised.   The Merovingian thought about this a moment.  "Keep going."

"I was mainly thinking about the angst it will undoubtedly bring out in me.  I lose my wings, this kid GETS them from the bas-- idiot who took mine."

"'Ow much of your pay are you willing to part with?"

"Everything I won't need for her," he nodded to Molly.

"Well, considering she is given all necessities on the house, you will be working pro bono."

"I figured."

The Merovingian started to leave the room.  "Now get to work, before I change my mind."

Rafe hastened to obey, pausing only to catch Molly's attention and let her know he was working now.


	30. Saving Archangel

30

Red was not a happy Irishman.  But he agreed to Poni's plan anyway.  "Only problem here's th' accent," he muttered.  "I don't do American accents."  "The program'll mask the voice too."  Salvo responded, tapping away at her console.

"Good, I'm glad y' thought ahead.  Or Poni did.  Whoever it was who thought that up."  Red sighed.  "And hopefully Assassin Kitty Bastet won't inconveniently manifest herself."  "Which is why I have Marcus keepin' her on a tight leash."  Poni responded.

Red looked admiring.  "You thought of ev'rything, gel."

"Pretty much."  Poni replied.  "How we doin' on time?"

Red looked at the clock.  "Almost time."  He turned his eyes on Pyre.  "What?"  She asked, a little irritable.  "Nothing," he replied easily, offering her a sheepish grin.  

"Do you not think I can pull it off?"

"I think you'll pull it off jus' fine.  It's me I'm worried 'bout.  I'm no actor," he answered honestly.  "Yer the only guy, so stop yer fussin'"  Poni scolded.  He grinned at her.  "As ye wish, Master o' My Life."  Salvo tapped the final line of code.  "It's ready."  Poni smirked.  "Then let's go."

As he was jacked in, Red was muttering Hail Mary after Hail Mary.

Poni only smirked, outward confidence holding inward as well.

Red looked at himself.  "I'm short," he said flatly.  Poni poked the cat-ears.  "You've no room to complain."  He grinned at her.  "I'm short, I'm scrawny, and I won't have a pack of fangirls randomly... what was the word, glomp?  Glomp me."

"You shouldn't be the one complainin' about fangirls.  Fanboys are much smellier."

"Never met one," Red grinned.  "Thieves don't hang out with fanboys."

Pyre appeared next to them, patting her side to make sure she had her trademarked sawed-off shotgun.   "Sorry guys, you have to go in with only the barest weapons under that skin."

Red sighed.  "I feel naked without my SMGs."

"Would you stop whining?"  Poni growled.  "I swear, you haven't stopped complaining since I told you the plan."

Recognising her tone, he shut up.  A wise decision.

"Now."  Poni replied.  "Let's go."

***

Sekhmet was not a happy kitty.  She understood that she wasn't to go out, and she herself had handed Marcus the cell phone, but Bastet was clawing for release and Sekhmet herself didn't like being stuck inside.

"Is something wrong, love?"  Marcus asked her at length

"Many things, all stemming from the bitch inside me," she said bitterly.

Marcus rose from his seat and hugged Sekhmet.  "I am sorry you must stay inside.  Should I get Seraph?"  Sekhmet blinked.  "Seraph?  Why Seraph?"  She was fond of the Chinese program, certainly....  "You have not noticed?  His proximity tends to wane Bastet's influence."

Sekhmet blinked several times, then she ran a mental check on herself.  "Source... you're right!  How did I miss that?"

"Perhaps it was hidden from you."

"Hidden?"  Sekhmet's blue eyes narrowed as her ears flattened against her skull.  "Bastet," she hissed angrily.  He hugged her once more.  "It will be alright, love.  You now know."  She sighed and hugged him back.  "I wish I'd never agreed to this makeover," she whispered.  

"I wish I'd never agreed to work for the Merovingian."

"And if wishes were fishes, we'd all ride horses."

He gave her an odd look.

"It's a human saying," she said shyly.  "I probably messed it up."  He smiled.  "It's darling."  She purred happily and rubbed her cheek against his chest.  He held her closer.  Sekhmet purred again and kissed his cheek, pushing her recent vow to the back of her mind, as well as Bastet's nagging.  "Are you alright, or do I need to find Seraph?"

"I'm fine," she assured her vampiric love with another kiss.  He kissed her back, careful with his fangs.  Sekhmet slid her arms around his waist, purring, kissing him all the while.  _I love you, Marcus... and I'll never let him get you.  Ever._

***

Valkyrie trailed slowly behind her brothers as they headed down to where the winged rebel was being kept.  She was in pain, and she was thoroughly miserable.  But she wasn't going to leave again.  She hoped.  Hopefully they'd finish punishing her at some point...?

The Twins phased through the door, paying no attention to Rafe and headed straight for Angel, unfastening his bonds and putting him in shackles.  Archangel actually did pale when he saw who had their hands on him, but he remained silent.  Rafe simply got out of their way, looking curiously at their little sister.  She looked like he had after they'd gotten through with him.  Odd that they'd be so protective, and then so cruel to her.

The Twins roughly began to drag Archangel from the room, straight up the stairs faster than the formerly bedridden rogue could walk.  He tried keeping up, but failed miserably, until something caught hold of his ankles, lifting them off the ground so he wouldn't receive further injury.  Turning his head, he saw another albino who strongly resembled the two carrying him, except this one was female and didn't keep her hair in dreadlocks.

Two came to a random door and inserted the key, tossing Archangel inside.  The room was completely full of clothing, most of which formal wear.  "Get dressed in something nice, or else we'll lose our temper."  The door shut behind him.

It took Archangel awhile to regain his footing, and another while to find something that would fit him.  He finally settled on a black suit, but had difficulty clothing his torso - the wings got in the way.  A straight razor was slipped under the doorway.

Rolling his eyes, he slit the shirt and jacket in two places so the wings would fit, cursing the bulky things every step of the way.  When he finished, he tucked the razor inside the jacket.  He wasn't stupid enough to use it on the Twins, but he liked having a weapon.  He made for the door, stumbled, caught himself, and attempted to walk out with some of his dignity intact.

Instead, the wings clipped the doorway, earning a startled yelp from him and a giggle from the girl.  One shot the girl a disapproving look.  The twins then both grabbed the young man and began to haul him towards another door, pulling another key out.  Seeing the downcast expression on her face, Archangel winked impudently at her, then yelped again as the right wing clipped the wall.

Two smirked wilily as one opened another door, leading the group into the main kitchen of the restaurant.  They quickly pulled him through, although they moved in such a fashion that Angel's wings were a bit too close to rapidly heating cooking oil as it popped.  This time, all they got was a wince.  Apparently, he knew they'd done that on purpose.

Once they were in the actual "public" section of the restaurant, The twins were much more careful and courteous with Archangel--no doubt, simply to avoid suspicion.  His right wing was now itching like hell.  Fortunately, the coppertops didn't see the wings, though the assorted programs guarding the Merovingian arched eyebrows, snickered, or in Tiger's case muttered, "Since when did James Bond get wings?"

"Since when was James Bond a small Asian man, moron?"  Pyre remarked as she stepped into the room, yellow PVC trench coat in all its shiny splendour, Marcus and Sekhmet in tow.

Tiger, an Asian himself, scowled at her and considered asking the Merovingian for permission to drain her of blood.  He took a second look at her and decided he didn't feel like being beaten to a pulp.

"Where's the frog-eater?  Let's do this thing quick-like," Pyre said, annoyed.

"Zere is no need to resort to childish insults, is zere, Pyre?" the Merovingian remarked as he strode to his usual spot at the table.  "There is always a need to result to childish insults.  How we doing this?"  Pyre replied casually.  "You give me what I want, zen I give you what you want," he answered.

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"'Ow do you know I won't let ze Twins kill him in front of you?"

"Because I have a shotgun and you're vaguely in front of me."  She retorted.  "I like to refer to it as kidnapper's insurance."

The Merovingian arched an eyebrow.  "I believe I specifically mentioned 'no weapons' as one of ze terms."

"Judging by the drag in your goons' right shoulder jackets, I don't think either of us played fair.  But if it'll make you feel better, I'll toss away the shotgun."  Pyre sighed.  Of course, she didn't say which shotgun.

A muscle under his left eye twitched.  "Just 'and over ze programs.  I 'ave no use for _votre ange_."

"Alright.  But you hand over Archangel at the same time.  They meet in the middle."

That muscle was twitching again.  The Merovingian didn't much like her.  "Very well," he replied, nodding to the Twins.  Pyre nodded to Marcus and Sekhmet.    The two programs walked forward as Archangel was shoved towards them.  "Oh, I have one more thing to say."  Pyre called as the two groups met in the middle.

"And zat would be?"

"NOW!"  Pyre called out, throwing a combat shotgun and _katana_ in a bundle to Archangel, diving to the side in the same motion with her sawed-off shotgun and pumping silver buckshot into a pair of the Merovingian's lackeys.

The pair, both of them werewolves, went down hard; Tiger leapt over the table to get between the Merovingian and the rebels as Archangel caught his favoured weapon and passed the shotgun to "Sekhmet".

Sekhmet blurred and disappeared in a flash of code, revealing Epona, shotgun pumping at another pair of lackeys.  "Now that ain't nice," Marcus growled as he changed into Red.  He reached out at random and grabbed an armed lackey.  "S'cuse me," he said as he appropriated the program's SMG then snapped its neck, taking it out of the fight.  He then levelled the weapon at Tiger and let loose, throwing the vampire into the Frenchman.  Tiger coughed blood but got his boss out of the way, then lunged at Red.

Pyre met the vamp with another shot from her shotgun, throwing him back in the wall again.  "Some undead never learn."  Tiger spat blood, glaring at her through his sunglasses.  By now, the coppertops had fled in a panic.  Archangel's white wings presented a nice, big target, so he was spending a lot of his time rendering the guns useless by cutting the barrels completely off.  Red, on the other hand, was firing indiscriminately at the thugs.  When he ran out of bullets, he shrugged, dropped the SMG, and appropriated another one in the same manner as he had the first.

Poni got an odd grin on her face and walked straight for the twins.  A smallish albino girl got in the way, a determined look on her frightened face.  Poni kept the odd look on her face. "Catch."  The woman threw the empty shotgun at the girl and pulled both of her pistols.  She ducked under the gun and lunged for Poni, razor out, ready to phase if necessary.  Both of her guns pointed up.  "Don't move, girly, an' don't dodge either, if you know what's good for everyone in this room."

Valkyrie blinked.  

"Right behind ya is one of the main gas lines in this building.  I studied the plans before plannin' this mission.  The bullets in these guns're armour piercing incendiary.  You do the math."

Her eyes widened as she realised that Poni was right.  "Now."  The captain said loud enough for the whole room to hear.  "We're gonna walk outta that door, an' unless you want to be scraped off the walls, you're gonna let us go."

Tiger had risen to his feet, gun held in a slightly unsteady hand.  "And what happens when I shoot you first?"  Pyre reached into her coat and held out a grenade.  "I happen."  Tiger snarled.  

"Y' understand, Frenchie?"  Poni called to the Merovingian, oddly calm.  "I understand perfectly," he said bitterly.  "Stand down, Tiger."  The vampire hesitated, then opened his hand and let his pistol fall.

Poni smirked and motioned for Red and Archangel to leave.  The two men exited, smirking; Archangel yelped as his wings again clipped the doorway.   Poni and Pyre then started to fall back.   Tiger's eyes were locked on Pyre as the women left, his body language plainly stating that they would meet again.  "This isn't the end, you realize," the Merovingian called out.  "I have minions everywhere."  "Indeed."  Epona replied.  "And you'd be wise to keep 'em away from the crew of the _Zodiac_."  Then they too disappeared out the door.


	31. Farewell to an Angel

31

Bastet was fighting to get out again.  Sekhmet had, for perhaps the first time, pulled away from Marcus to retreat to a corner to wear her inner demon down.  The cell phone rang, and Marcus picked it up, conversing briefly before hanging up.  "You are no longer under house arrest... Sekhmet?"  She looked up at him, her ears flat against her skull.  She was upset.  "Is something wrong, my precious?"  He knelt next to her.

"It's her," she whispered.

"Do you wish for me to get Seraph?"

"Please...."

"Can you walk?"

She nodded, rising to her feet, her tail lasing in distress.  He supported her, helping the cat girl to the Oracle's door, on which he knocked.  Sekhmet's face was buried in his side, upset that she was losing this battle for herself.  The door opened, the Oracle standing there.  "What are you waiting for?  Put her on the couch, Seraph will be home soon."  Marcus blinked and did as he was told.

Sekhmet whimpered, holding tightly to Marcus' hand.  He held her hand back, brushing her hair from her face.  

"Don't leave me?"

"I will never."

She smiled at him and squeezed his hand.  Seraph stepped into the room that moment.  "Am I needed?"  "Seraph," Sekhmet asked as she rose, feeling Bastet retreat, "how do you keep her under control?"

"Excuse me, Sekhmet.  Keep who under control?"

"Bastet."

"If I do, then I do not know how.  Forgive me."

Her face fell, then looked determined.  "I will find out, then."

***

Pyre looked over a few gauges on the engineering level, taking note with a pen and looked unhappily at the boring hair she possessed in the real world.  Dye was just so hard to come by...

A rather stiff Archangel looked in.  "Do you need any help, Pyre-san?" he asked softly.  "Huh?  Nope.  I'm fine."  She replied distractedly.  

"All right."  He hesitated, looking at her for a moment.

"You need something?"

"_I-iie_..."

"You....spit it out Angel."

He actually looked embarrassed.  "I, um... well, we are supposed to be landing in Zion soon.  I was wondering if you would... like me to show you around?"

"I was actually going to set up my bunk with Poni."

Unaccountably, the Japanese man blushed.  "Oh.  Then... perhaps you might like to eat with me?"

"I have alot of work I have to do once I get there...they have to start teaching me about maintenance on the ship."  She replied, still paying more attention to gauges than him.

"Oh," he said again, disappointed.  "Then... I guess I will see you later."

"yeah, later."

He sighed, walking away.  After a moment, he decided to seek out Poni to see if there was anything he needed to do.  Poni was punching a makeshift punching bag in her room, blindfolded.  "Epona-san?" he called from a safe distance.

"What?"  She called back in her Scottish accent, still pounding away.

"Do you need me to do anything?"

"Not that I kin think of, why?"

He shrugged.  "I wanted to see if something needed to be done." 

"Nothin' that either Salvo or Pyre can't take care of."

An odd sigh from the teenager.

"Is somthin' the matter?"

"_Hai_."

"Pyre?"

"_Hai_."  It was odd, admitting this to his captain.

"Tis not a good time to be makin' moves on the lass."

He nodded.

"She's tryin' to cope with what exactly's goin' on...plus, I dun think she's really your type, lad."

"What do you mean?"

"Pyre's every bit as volatile as her name would suggest."

Archangel looked confused.

"You see her short temper now, eh?"

"Yes."

"Imagine what would happen at certain times o' th' month.  You sure you could handle that?"

"I would not know until I tried."

"What is it about Pyre ya like so much?"

His face lit up.  "The way she looks, the way she is unafraid to speak her mind, the way she handles herself... she is everything I am not."  

"And tell me, what kinda man do you see with someone like that?"

Now his face fell.  "Someone... more like Red."

"Close, but not quite there.  She needs someone who'll be oppositional to her.  A girl like that's not happy unless she's conflictin' somethin'."

He sighed.

"Ya see what I mean, though."

"Yes," he said unhappily.

"Sorry to bear bad news, but it's better'n you gettin' shot down."

"I s'pose," he answered.

***

A few days after that conversation, Red tracked Poni down.  "Oi, Poni?" he asked her.  "What?"  Poni called tiredly from her room.  He did have the grace to pause for a moment.  "Is this a bad time?"

"I"m awake.  Now what?"

He shrugged, waiting outside her door.  "I was jus' thinkin' 'bout Wings an' what 'e was like before 'e was unplugged.  He's changed a lot, y'know."   "Aye, that he has."  Poni was gradually waking up.

"I was jus' wonderin' if I could see if I could bring th' old Wings back.  Give 'im back 'is personality."

"What ya 'ave in mind?"

Red grinned.  "For starters, takin' 'im to a bar Matrix-side an' gettin' 'im drunk."

"Alright.  Then?"

"Gettin' videos of him singin', then, when 'e's nice an' hung over, takin' 'im on a field trip t' where 'e grew up."

"Sounds fair 'nough.  Jus' be careful of that Agent."  Poni replied.  "I don' wanna lose Angel right after we rescued 'im."

"Sure.  I c'n hold more alcohol than Wings, an' I'll be sure to stay under my limit.  An' cell phone on at all times, and various guns upon my person, an' all that."

"Alright.  I approve.  Take care with 'm."

"I will," Red replied.  "An' thanks.  Will we 'ave to tell Zion at all?  Or can we just circulate the videos?"

"That'll work."  Poni began to make herself comfortable in her bed again.  Red took the hint and left, making plans already.  Salvo should be on shift now, he'd run the Plan by her too.

***

Red was startled at how well his plan had worked.  Archangel, apparently, could not hold his alcohol _at all_.  He grinned at the sight of his drunken friend up on the stage, singing _I'm Too Sexy (For My Shirt)_ after having thrown said garment off.  He had a small video camera going, catching every last bit of it to circulate on the internet and around Zion.

"Ah, life," he murmured, downing another beer.

They left soon after, too sober Angel up and make a visit to the boy's homeland.

***

Archangel looked around the small forest, wincing as the harsh sunlight  seared his eyes.  He had a massive headache, but Red apparently had some weird brew that cured the nausea portion of hangovers, so at least he wasn't throwing up.

"Where's the dojo?" he asked Red, not liking the fact that it wasn't there.  Red looked surprised.  "They didn't tell you?  The Agents burned the place down when they couldn't find you.  Nobody died, though, thank God."

Archangel thought about this and nodded.  "Knowing Yukio, they've rebuilt the dojo elsewhere.  He never did like this forest."  Red didn't know what Angel was talking about, but he smiled and nodded.  The young man never talked about his life Matrixside, but then, Red was one of the few who did.  Mainly because he could brag about being the only person to have robbed the Merovingian and lived.

His young companion's head snapped up without warning.  "_Abunai_!" he  yelled, lunging for Red and pushing the other rebel out of the way as a gun fired, catching Archangel in the lower spine.  He lost all feeling in his legs and fell to the ground, unable to move then.  "Run!" he yelled at Red.  The startled Irishman obeyed, his cell phone falling near Angel as he bolted.

"Mr. Tenou, how nice to see you again," said a cold voice.  Archangel looked up at the Agent who had first given him wings, then a gunshot drilled into his chest and the Agent ran after Red, leaving Archangel to bleed to death.


	32. The End of Jameson

32

Archangel was dying.  He knew it, but damn it, that Agent would kill Red if he didn't do something.  But what could he do?  His legs were paralysed and he was fast losing blood....  He saw the phone Red had dropped near him.  It took effort and most of the strength he had left, but he managed to get it.

_What?  It's dialled?_

On the other end, Marcus picked up his cell phone.  "Hello?"

Archangel could no longer remember English.  He hoped to God whoever had picked up would understand.  "Agent... after Red.  We're in... Japan... help him...."  The phone fell from his fingers, and he waited to die.

Marcus hung up the phone that moment and took a key ring from his pocket.  "Sekhmet...I have a debt to repay.  Try to stay here."  He started to walk towards the closet.  "What is it?" she asked him worriedly.

"Red and Archangel are in trouble."

She nodded and let him go.

Red could feel his lungs burning as he pelted through what was likely the one forest left in all of Japan.  He'd not been here since freeing Archangel three years beforehand...  A swift glance over his shoulder revealed the Agent gaining on him, and Red cursed the size and hair that made him a blatant target.

The next instant, a bullet slammed into his shoulder, then a second one hit his leg.  He hit the ground hard, cursing.  He rolled over, drawing two pistols and firing at the oncoming Agent, who dodged every one.

The Agent didn't dodge, however, when a figure in a black and white trench coat slammed into his side.  Red blinked.  Who the hell...  "Marcus!?"

Jameson rounded on the vampire with a snarl, planting a powerful fist into his gut.  Marcus backed up, coughing as he slammed a foot around into the Agent's skull.  "Run!"  Jameson snarled as Red scrambled to his feet and took flight once more, limping now.  Marcus dropped into a fighting stance.

Jameson followed suit, forgetting Red completely.  "For interfering, you will die!" he snapped.  "For hurting my friends, I offer you the same fate."  Marcus replied.  The Agent laughed harshly.  "Friends?  They're humans; they wouldn't befriend a program.  If anything, they are using you."

"I would not expect one such as you to understand."  Marcus retorted.  "You're a weak, pathetic fool, to disillusion yourself .  Humans care only for themselves.  Look at that human," he gestured in the direction Red had vanished to.  "He's abandoned you and left his dying crewmate behind."

"There was nothing he could do to help me or him.  I can handle you fine on my own."

"So you say."  Then the Agent lunged at Marcus, bringing his fist around to strike at the vampire again.  Marcus tried his best to block, but he was a little slow, and was knocked off balance.  He responded, however, by falling on his back and kicking both legs out at the Agent's torso, rolling back up to a standing stance.

The Agent sprang to his feet, an oddly insane look on his face.  "I wonder what a vampire's wings would be like?" he mused as he readied his special code.  Marcus's gun was in his hand. He stepped backwards, through a tree.  Jameson stopped for a moment.  "Interesting... your code is not at all stable."

"The same can be said of yours."

"Which among us is the more deviant, I wonder?" 

"One could argue that your sadism is a very human trait, Agent.  Unless," he continued, "you managed to corrupt a cat program somehow."

"I no longer care.  Who would, as long as I complete my job!"  He lunged at Marcus once more, his fist shattering the trunk of the tree in his path as he went after the vampire.  Marcus replied by firing several shots point blank at the Agent, trying to dodge away through another tree.

Jameson avoided them all, relentlessly coming after the vampire.  Marcus leapt back, kicking out for the Agent's head.  Jameson grabbed Marcus' leg and slammed him against the ground.  Marcus kicked out with his other leg after grunting on impact, straight for the face of the Agent again.  Again Jameson dodged, the look on his face one reminiscent of the Twins'.

Marcus rolled up to his feet and dodged through a few more trees, continuing his handgun's assault.  Still the Agent was able to dodge the bullets, and he fired back at Marcus.  The bullets smashed into trees, and those that would have hit the program simply passed straight through, with absolutely no fanfare.  The vampire reholstered the gun and then got into a fighting stance again.  "It appears there's only one way to solve this."

The Agent was staring at the vampire.  "That isn't possible," he growled.  "Very little is."  Marcus agreed.

"No Exile should be able to do that!"

"You assume I am merely a single Exile."  Marcus fell back in the fighting stance a little, making it more stable.

"What?"

I am both my evil and good self.  I am complete."  Marcus replied.  "I can see the error in your code, Agent.  No more will be hurt by you."

"There is no error!" Jameson screamed, lunging for him.

Marcus stayed in his stance until the last moment, and then stepped to the side, his foot sticking out and his arms lashing to grab the Agent and use the rogue's momentum to hurl the program into a nearby tree.  Jameson was momentarily stunned, but swiftly whirled on Marcus to attack again.

Marcus was already in his stance again.  The Agent was faster.  the Agent was stronger.  But the Agent was angry and disoriented.  Marcus intended to keep him that way.  The vampire-program immediately began to lay into the rogue Jameson with a flurry of punches and kicks, determined to keep his opponent off balance.

Against all logic, it was working.  Perhaps that, then was the flaw in the Agent's programming -- he felt emotion.  He knew frustration.  And he denied that he had a problem.

Marcus' fist suddenly connected hard with the Agent's head, the vampire then dropping to avoid a punch from Jameson and sweeping into the rogue's legs, knocking him off his feet.  Time seemed to slow then, and as Marcus rose as he turned a complete circle, the vampire snapped out a side kick, which connected straight into the stomach of Jameson, sending the Agent through the air and into a tree.  And through the tree.  Time then resumed normalcy.

Slowly, the Agent rose, a manic glint in his eye as he prepared a certain code.  He had wondered what sort of wings a vampire would have....

The vampire stepped back into the fighting stance, shifting his weight until his hands were forward.  Then his arm twisted, and Marcus gave the, "come get some" gesture.  This would take exact timing.

Jameson came, slamming his hand forward at Marcus' chest, preparing to initiate his new talent.  Marcus let the blow hit, his arms dropping to his side, and his right starting to crackle with white energy.  The rogue Agent laughed, a frighteningly insane sound, and forced the code for wings into the vampire.

Marcus's code flickered.  Nothing happened.

"WHAT!?" Jameson cried.  But it had worked on that rebel!

My code is unstable, remember?  I am complete.  Wings are redundant and faulty programming.  I destroy redundant and fault programming.  Like you."  Marcus was passionless.  Suddenly, his hand snapped up, crackling white, and snatched the Agent's arm.  The code for Jameson's limb shattered, severing it from the elbow up.  Marcus lifted the hand and bit down on it, the arm almost instantly fading in a flash of white and a faint modem-noise.

The Agent screamed then, a high, keening sound.

"I should torture you for what you have done."  Marcus's fangs glinted in the moonlight, both his hands now crackling.  The Agent then knew an emotion he had never before felt.

Fear.

He turned then, and tried to run.

The Vampire was in front of him.  "You deserve no pity."

"G-g-get away from me!"

Marcus stepped forward.  "You take wings.  You hurt for your own pleasure.  You have forfeited yourself."  Jameson had no words.  He could only try to escape.  However, there was no place he could run.  "You wished to know what my wings would look like?"  Marcus continued slowly advancing on the Agent.

Jameson backed away, his eyes never leaving the Vampire.

Marcus's code flickered, having absorbed the program from Jameson.  Suddenly, two massive, brown, batlike wings spread wide behind him.  "I am going to utterly and completely delete your code, forever.  Make peace with the source, Agent, though there you will not be returning."

The Agent tried again to run.  Marcus dropped from the sky in front of Jameson.  His glowing hand shot out, slamming straight through the Agent.  Then, before Jameson could react, the Agent was spun and pulled towards Marcus, wings closing around the two as the vampire sunk his teeth into the back of Jameson's head.

Jameson screamed one last time, then was silent.

A weakened college kid fell to the ground when Marcus opened his wings, which flickered into non-existence.  Luckily, he was whole, and merely unconscious, not dead.  Marcus looked down at his hands, now no longer glowing.  Then, he set back on the way he came, to find Sekhmet.  He finally had an answer.

She was sitting with Archangel's body, his head in her lap, stroking the dead rebel's hair and crying.  Marcus put a hand on her shoulder.  "I was too late to save him..."

"He was so young... so very young," she whispered.

Marcus said nothing for a moment.  "Humans have an afterlife belief, do they not?"

"Some do.  I do not know if he did."

"Then let us hope he is there now."

She nodded sadly.  "At least... he didn't die alone," she said softly, brushing his bangs from his forehead.  "Come.."  Marcus began.  "Let us bury him properly, and then go home."  She nodded, rising and laying him down gently.  They buried him next to the place he had grown up, and then, Marcus and Sekhmet departed, returning home, a hero departed, and a villain gone from the world.

_Final chapter goes up tomorrow; all reviewer questions answered then._


	33. Requiem

33

It was a subdued Red who returned to the _Zodiac_, alone and without his usual smile.  Everyone on the Zodiac was silent as well.  They had seen what had happened.  Pyre looked like she had been crying.  Poni was sitting in a corner, forlorn and angry.  Salvo merely stared at the screen of code, looking for any distraction from the eventuality of tragedy.

Red had no comment.  He rose from the chair and looked to his friend's body in sorrow.  A harsh reminder that they were not immortal, it was.  Red's large hand reached out to touch Archangel's surprisingly serene face, then stopped.  He turned his head sadly from Angel.

It was then that Poni began to sing.  It was a melodic, mournful song, beautiful in its tragicness.  After a moment, Red joined in softly, in harmony with his captain, letting her dominate the song.  This continued for a long while, the pair singing while Pyre and Salvo listened, captive by their sadness.

At last Red ended his part, leaving the last, most haunting portion to Poni's alto as he drew a blanket over the young rebel's body.  Poni didn't stop singing for hours, until they had given Angel a proper funeral ceremony back in Zion.   The song would echo in Pyre's head for years to come.

***

Sekhmet was having another struggle with Bastet, who seemed to have some version of cabin fever.  And she was expressing it by singing the theme song, leaving Sekhmet to wonder why Bastet had been paying attention during the showing of _Muppet Treasure Island_ in the Oracle's apartment when she had been roped into baby-sitting for the potentials.

_I got cabin fever; I think I lost my grip/ I'd like to get my hands on whoever wrote this script_, Bastet caterwauled.

Marcus sat nest to Sekhmet.  His hand was sparkling a little.  Then, with little fanfare, he grabbed Sekhmet by the arm, and pulled.  Instead of pulling Sekhmet, however, in that moment her coding flickered, and she split into to separate, nearly identical forms.

"_And dreaming of a new moon/ Now I'm as crazy as--_ huh?" Bastet blinked, as did Sekhmet.  Blue eyes looked upon green eyes, then, as one, both programs screamed.

Marcus chuckled a little.

Both ceased their screaming to eye one another suspiciously.  Then Bastet said, "Our - your ears and tail are gone...."

"You are now two separate entities."  Marcus replied.  "The Agent was good for something after all..."

"What agent?" both asked simultaneously, then glared at each other.

"The one I deleted.  Our fallen friend's assailant."  Marcus replied.  "Some of his coding let me fix some gaps in my code, and separate you."

One might have expected Bastet to comment snidely on Archangel's death, but she had apparently had some respect for the lad and thus remained silent, not at all comfortable with where she was.

"You are free to leave whenever you wish, Bastet."  Marcus said calmly.  "We will not hold you here."

She rose to her feet, backing slowly away, as if afraid to turn her back on two who had every reason to hate her.  Sekhmet she knew she could handle, but this new Marcus....

Marcus threw the cat-girl a vial.  "This is payment for my freedom.  Give it to your master, if you chose to go there."  She nodded, still backing away, until she reached the door.  She couldn't get through it fast enough.  "It is a pity."  Marcus sighed.  "She does not have to live in servitude."  The vampire turned back to Sekhmet and smiled.

And was suddenly tackled to the couch, her mouth covering his in a thankful, passionate kiss.  Marcus laughed and kissed her back.  Finally, after all that, they were totally, absolutely, unconditionally free.

***

The Merovingian was standing in front of the Twins and their Sister.  They had all been standing there for a while, the Twins made to stand completely and totally still while the frenchman thought in silence.  Valkyrie remained where she was as well, though this was because it hurt to move.  Every now and then a soft whimper would escape her lips.

"Valkyrie, you are dismissed from my services.  Ze Oracle assures me she has a place for you zere.  Go and never come back."  The Merovingian said suddenly.  She nodded quietly, slowly rising to her feet and fleeing with a limp, pausing only to give her brothers a last sad look and a whispered goodbye.  Then she was gone.

"As for you two."  The Merovingian continued.  "You will stand 'ere for ze next five months.  If you move, ze time will increase by one month.  Do you understand?"

A door opened, and a greatly subdued, green-eyed catgirl slipped in, clutching a vial to her chest.  One of the twins nodded.  "Six months it is....Bastet?"  The Merovingian looked a little surprised, something he wasn't accustomed to being.  "What is zis?"

"Marcus... separated myself and Sekhmet.  He told me to give this to you, in exchange for his and Sekhmet's freedom," she answered, offering the vial.  The Merovingian grabbed the vial and looked at it a moment.  "Zis code...zomething about it..."  The frenchman smirked then.  "Bastet, fetch Rafael, please.  I believe I 'ave some news 'e will be 'appy with."

She nodded and ran to find the angel, returning soon with the blue-haired man.  His normally neat ponytail was a mess, indicating he'd most likely been sleeping.  "You wanted me?" he asked, managing not to yawn.  "Ze rogue Agent is dead.  Zis is a fragment of 'is code."  The frenchman threw the vial at the angel program.

He caught it, blinking.  "Jameson bought it?"  As this sank in, he grinned viciously.  "I'd've loved to see that."  "Apparently, we 'ave Marcus to thank for it.  Take ze code to ze Alchemist, 'ave 'im look at it."  The Merovingian ordered.  "We may be able to use it to our advantage...and possibly aid in your wing problem."

Rafe was out the door and down the hall within fifteen seconds, heading for Hippocrates' place at top speed.  Bastet couldn't help but smile at his sudden transition into wakefulness.  The Merovingian sat back in his chair, smirking to himself.  "Bastet, as you are not being useful at ze moment, be a dear and fetch Persephone."

She nodded and did so, casting a look at the motionless Twins as she bounded off, hoping to become useful.  It was odd, not having to deal with being an unwanted split personality of Sekhmet.  The Merovingian waited by throwing paperclips at the twins, trying to encourage a flinch.  

One of them phased out to avoid the assault.  "Seven months."

Bastet returned at a slower pace than the one she'd bounded off in, as the pace had been dictated by the Merovingian's wife, who never hurried.  The Merovingian stood, snickering slightly at the highly annoyed Twins.  "Ah, my dear.  Are you ready for a night about town?"

"Of course," she replied, smiling at her husband.  There was a certain sharpness to that smile that declared _Try anything with another woman and you may find yourself missing a non-crucial yet important bit of your programming_.

The Merovingian's mind was elsewhere, though, as the couple and their security entourage led them to the restaurant.  That code...yes, the frenchman thought, that code would come in very handy in the future.

Very handy indeed.

_FIN_

_Yes, after all that, it's finally over!  *mad grin*  Much to the collective relief of myself and Soldier Zero.  As promised, I will now deal with those who have left reviews:_

**_Sapphire:_**_ No, I was not putting your posting speed to shame.  A great deal of this story was completed in 2003.  It's easy to post quickly when you don't post everything as soon as you finish it._

**_Orcus_**_: I know it's no _Legacy.  Legacy_ is a solo work; this one is not.  And yes, this is part of my 'Cycles' back story, dealing with the fourth incarnation of the Matrix.  This is one part of the Fourth Cycle, though; my beloved Soldier Zero is writing another part of it that deals with the One of that Cycle as well as the end of it.  And this story occurs, Matrix-wise, in the mid-nineties._

**_Sapphire:_**_ Molly is written to be lovable.  And she has her own roles to play... ^_^  Again, this is being updated quickly because it was completed a week ago.  I don't always post hot-off-the-press, y'know....  Ah, Sapphire, Sapphire, Sapphire.  I did not tie this story into _Legacy_.  I tied _Legacy _into this_.  _ Look at the publish dates, this one came first._

_***_

**_IMPORTANT NOTE:  If any of you have questions regarding the closure of this story, be sure to provide your e-mail address in your review so I can answer them.  I do care about what you think and would be happy to clear up any confusion.  Also, any con-crit would be nice, as I know there are some mistakes floating around and I'd like to fix them.  Thanks!_**

****

**_Regards from myself and Soldier Zero!_**


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